


White Wedding

by Prettyburgerprincess



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Damon is the Bad Guy, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mentions of abusive behavior, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 98,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyburgerprincess/pseuds/Prettyburgerprincess
Summary: Caroline needs the perfect boyfriend to use as a buffer against what's left of her abusive family - Wedding Weekend was always gonna suck, but especially now since her mom died so recently.So naturally, she commandeers Klaus.Oh, and apparently she's desiccating super slowly? Which is weird. It's resulting in super intense day dreams of the sexy variety... which is... Confusing.And kinda leading her down some awkward (sexy) paths, if she's entirely honest.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 49
Kudos: 196





	1. Just March

** Friday, Early Afternoon – Some Random Bar, New Orleans **

_Just march on over,_ Caroline told herself, for the third time. _Three, two, one, go._

_Go._

_Three two one…. Go._

She wished he wasn’t sitting in front of the god damn bar, so she could shoot something punchy to work up her nerves. She knew what he was going to say – he’d agree to her nefarious plan, no sweat. It wasn’t like, a big deal. She was going to get her way, because Klaus didn’t have a ‘no’ button, when it came to her. But also, asking him for anything, ever, made her feel icky and cross.

_Just march on over,_ she thought again. _Just, swing your ass, flip your hair, and get on over there. He’s drinking alone, and he won’t say no. Just… march._

But her boots were like, stuck, or something.

She rehearsed the favor she had to ask him, and lingered by the booth, her nails scratching over the sticky wood grain of the table. She wondered if he was waiting on someone. A lover? It had been ages since he saw her, but like… he’d said all that romantic crap _._

_I intend to be your last,_ and all that.

He looked sour, but that was basically his default. His shoulders were hunched forward and he was leaning heavy onto his elbows, scowling at the empty glass in between his hands. It was midday on a mild Tuesday, and he was in a lonely bar, sullen and sulking about something.

_Maybe you’ll brighten his day,_ she thought. _Maybe he could use a friend…_

He muttered something as the barman walked by, and she watched as he produced an entire bottle from under the table. To her surprise, Klaus unrolled a hundred dollar bill from his back pocket, and let it flutter sadly to the wood instead of just compelling it.

He poured out his own drink, knocked it back, and stared into the empty glass again.

_Oh, Jesus, that’s… sad,_ she thought. Giving herself a little shake, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was Caroline fucking Forbes.

Klaus Mikealson who?

She was not scared of him, not when he was being a super loser doing nothing and getting drunk by himself. She had places to be, damn it. Things to do. And she was _not scared_. Nu uh. She wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of hunting him down if she was scared of him! Right?! Like that just made sense.

Who in their right mind would reach out to someone they were actively frightened of?!

_Just march_ , she demanded to herself. _Three, two, one… March. MARCH._

“Interesting way to spend a morning,” she said, feigning indifference as she sat on the stool beside him. "Is this what life is like in New Orleans?"

She hadn’t seen him in like, what, a year? A year and a half? But looking at him now, she could hardly tell. The fission of frustrated arousal she seemed to exist in every time he laid his eyes on her flared, and for all her body knew, he’d been in her back pocket just yesterday.

“Caroline,” he said. The cocky half-smile and devious flare of heat in his blue eyes was familiar, and she replied in her rehashed way; with a hearty eye-roll and short ‘ _ugh._ ’ “Always good to see you; you look absolutely ravishing. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she said primly. “You don’t look super great. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, per se,” he drawled. His nose twitched, casting him for a moment in a wolfish visage. He barely showed his teeth for a second, but it made her heart kick like a startled rabbit and duck her eyes to his glass.

“Something is wrong,” she insisted. “Because you’re in the grungiest bar in New Orleans, drinking your version of cheap booze and glaring at your glass. Spill.”

“You misunderstand me,” he said, softening his scowl. “Nothing is wrong. I am the reigning King; my subjects are all at peace. My family is safe and whole, my plethora of demons are vanquished, and my enemies have decided to wise up and refuse to try and usurp me. There’s nothing wrong, which makes it wrong, in that I have everything well in hand.”

“So you’re bored?” she guessed.

“ _Painfully_ ,” he groaned, and rubbed his temple. “Now the factions are all cooperating, there hasn’t been so much a squabble in weeks; my best efforts to be terrifying to behold have rather negated the use of any further violence I might enjoy. I have nothing to do.”

“That is the worst first world problem I have ever heard, literally ever, and you should be ashamed,” she said simply. “But guess what? Fate, thy name is Caroline. I have a… favor, I need to ask you.”

“Oh my,” he said, arching his brows at her. “Do try to look a little less like you’re sucking a lemon, love.”

“I’m trying,” she said, and sighed.

He lifted the bottle, amber in color, at her.

“Drink?”

She pursed her lips, and eyed his glass, then the bottle. She actually liked the brand he’d gotten the barkeep to hand him, so she shrugged.

“Make it a double,” she insisted, and he poured it for her, sliding the glass along the worn tabletop with the back of his knuckles.

He watched her throat as it moved to swallow, and a little bit of that prior arousal made itself known in her jeans. In an attempt to cool her jets, she crossed her legs tightly. Judging by his maddening smirk, he weighed the gesture for what it was.

“Long day?” he murmured.

“It’s gonna be a long weekend,” she said clearly.

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Caroline?” he asked, immediately straightening in his seat.

“Like,” she said thoughtfully. “Yes, but it’s probably not the kind that you’re hungry for.”

“Ask me your favor,” he suggested, leaning back in his stool, watching her carefully. He poured another drink (verging on the line between a double and a triple,) and left it between them, a clear offering to her if she wanted it, but also close enough in his reach that he could snatch it away if he didn’t like what she had to say. At least, that was what she interpreted he was doing, anyway.

But he wouldn’t say no to her. Not to her. Would he?

She dallied while she thought about how honest she had to be with him. On one hand, she could give him the brutal truth, but he’d like that way, way too much. On the other, she ran the risk of being too cold to him, and throwing herself out of his good books. Given, she was one of the only people she knew who had ever seen the inside of that good book, but she’d also been tossed out a time or two.

“I need you to be my date,” she said finally. “For this unholy wedding weekend. Please.”

He lifted his eyebrows.

“I think I’ve been hit very hard in the head,” he said mildly. “Or I’ve finally gone off my rocker. Come again?”

“I said,” she muttered, and looked at him sheepishly. “I need you to be my date to a wedding, please.”

“Oh, hell’s frozen over, is that it?” he said with good humor. “Either that, or you need a pretty dress from me. You needn’t worry about some farce of asking me on a date if you need something from me. You can – and usually do – just ask.”

Now, ordinarily, she would’ve huffed and shoved up out of her seat and told him to forget it. But she really, really needed him to be on her side.

She felt a shame blush creeping up her neck, and self-consciously pulled her hair forward, reaching for the glass. She sipped the bourbon inside and said nothing, letting the tension between them build, her hands wringing the rim of the glass they shared.

“I don’t like when you don’t raise to my bait,” he told her quietly. “What’s causing the frown, love?”

She knocked back the rest of the drink, staring studiously at the warp of wood beneath the thick glass. She wanted to storm out. Really. The instinct was very, very strong, to just give up on the whole stupid affair, change her name and leave the country.

But she didn’t know how to do any of that stuff, and honestly the best person to ask how to go off the grid was sitting right next to her.

“It’s family,” she muttered.

“Ah,” he said. “Yes, I’m familiar. Tell me.”

“I just…” she shook her head, and wet her lip, tasting the burn of alcohol lingering on her lip.

The barman cleaned a glass a little too thoroughly and snapped the edge clear off, sliding the sharp line of it into the web of his forefinger and thumb.

Caroline felt her face change; felt her teeth shoot out of her gums so fast it spurted blood from her lip. She slapped a hand to her mouth, but watched the beautiful bloom of red against the quick towel the man held to the wound.

Honestly it had been ages since she’d eaten (like… eaten, eaten. As in, consumed a bunny, eaten) and she should’ve known better than to brace the public, let alone drink on her empty, empty belly.

She popped open her mouth and licked the sore sides of her fangs, mesmerized by the man as he stemmed the blood flow and made his hasty way to the back to clean himself up. She tracked his every move, her body rock solid, breathing halted in her chest.

The gentle clamp of a hand on her shoulder made her shoot him a filthy glare, but he only bowed his head at her, lowering it like a bull to a matador, ready to brawl if she would start one.

She blinked back the heat, and the hunger, and cast a longing look at the back of the bar, where she could smell the man washing his ambrosial blood down the drain.

“Shall I get you someone to eat?” he murmured. “I quite like that bar keep, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I don’t eat people,” she croaked. She reminded herself that she _did not eat people_. God, but she was so fucking _hungry._ And _mad._ And _scared_. And _embarrassed_. And Klaus’ hand was on her and he smelled _so good_. “I don’t.”

“I can stop you before he’s brought to any real harm,” he offered.

“No,” she said quickly, and rubbed under her eyes, feeling the remaining veins bleed away.

“Are you sure?”

“No,” she told him, honest. She gave him a look that felt doe eyed and soft, and couldn’t help but pout a little. “Don’t tempt me. Are you busy this weekend or not?”

“I’m not,” he replied. “I’ll be your date. When and where do you want me?”

She was distracted, so distracted, by the smell of blood in the air. It was so hot and thick she could basically feel it clogging her throat. She hadn’t even realized she was looking back out after the bartender until Klaus’ hand steered her face back to his.

“Shall we walk?” he said.

She didn’t want to. But she got up out of her seat, taking the bottle by the throat, to spare the bleeding man.

“So it’s my mom’s sister Linda and my cousin _Bethany_ ,” she explained grumpily, hugging the bottle to her chest with both arms. She kept her focus on the ground in front of her. “And it’s the first big family thing after she died, so I have to go and show my face, and be completely in control, and look like I know what I’m doing.”

“Just judging from the venom you spat when you even uttered her name,” he said, amused. “We don’t like Bethany?”

“We do not like Bethany,” she said sourly. “We don’t like Aunt Linda, and we don’t like her fiancé Clark.”

“But the rest of the family needs to see you’re thriving,” he said, understanding.

She felt her face twist.

“I don’t need to be thriving,” she admitted, sheepishly. “I need to be doing better. Please don’t make me explain.”

“Oh, but I have to get my wicked kicks somehow.” He took her elbow, and lead her to a seat. “Tell me.”

She groaned, and took a big sip of the bourbon, glaring at the bottle as she considered how to phrase it. She crossed, then re-crossed her legs, looking out into the colourful street.

“Bethany was always pitted against me when we were kids in school, but she carried it over to life stuff when I started dating before she did. Which, will undoubtedly come up, that I’ve been dating longer than she has but she’s getting married first. Because that’s considered a _win_.”

“How very dramatic,” he said, amused.

“I can see you’re invested in my cause,” she said, tone clipped.

“I’m always invested in the things that worry you,” he said, and reclined in his seat. “But I do wish you wouldn’t worry yourself over such petty affairs when it’s already on the way to remedied.”

“It’s not petty,” she lamented, scowling at him. “It’s real.”

“Of course it is. I don’t imagine you coming to me asking favors for anything mild,” he informed her. “Don’t fret. I can be every inch the charming gentleman when I need to be.”

“Uhm, so about that,” she said, and may or may not have batted her lashes at him. “Maybe you can approach it a little more… like yourself?”

“I hardly think flashing my fangs will earn me any points in your favor,” he drawled.

“Maybe just…” she held up her thumb and forefinger, barely a hairs width apart. “Maybe a little less than actual fangs?”

“Shall I be your bad boy, Caroline?” he teased. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you,” she said pointedly. “That’s why I asked you – I thought about Stefan, but he’s…”

He was watching her without blinking, something solemn about the set of his mouth while she scrambled to find the right words to explain.

“Did you ask him?” he murmured. “Did he turn you down?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No. I asked you. Because I want you. You’re not just a bad boy – you aren’t just an old world gentleman. You’re dangerous, and arty, and everything else, too. You’re basically perfect. Just be yourself, and I’ll _win_.”

He wet his lip.

“You don’t want me to temper anything?” he confirmed. “You truly want me, as I am?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, _no douy_ heavily implied. “But don’t like, eat anyone. That’s a hard no.”

“I won’t eat any one,” he promised. He sat a little straighter in the seat. “I’ll show my face to this wedding weekend, and I’ll make her rue the day she thought she ever had one over you.”

“Like…” she said, and groaned. “Yes, please, and _thank you_!”

He snickered, pleased with himself. It was kind of adorable.

Kind of. Very.

She found herself laughing in reply, reaching up to put her hands over her cheeks. With the bottle of bourbon trapped between her knees, she maneuvered to face him more fully, sagging a little at the broken tension between them. She even managed a grateful smile that he seemed very smug to receive.

“Is she always about one-uppsmanship?” he said, amused. “I do love a family squabble, as you well know. I think I’m best filled in on the nature of her cruelty.”

“If she was a Mikealson, you would’ve white oak staked her in the tenth century,” she quipped.

“Ooh, vicious,” he teased.

“I have this feeling,” she said, digging out her phone, and scrolling back into the text message thread. She showed him the screen. “Like you don’t believe me about how serious this is. So here’s my first example of how the game is played. This is what I got, two days ago, because she _knows_ I like to be organised.”

She let him pluck the phone from her fingers, his expression still twisted into a smirk and a twinkly eyed look. As he read, that expression morphed – fist the pull of his mouth went down at the corners, until it was upset; then his brow lowered, became heavy with thought. Then finally, the glitter in his gaze, which had been so fun and light, turned into little blue flames of rage.

Caroline didn’t have to read the message over his shoulder, because she’d re-read it like eighty billion times since she’d received it, and she had angrily quoted it to every friend she had in indignation. Even Damon!

_’Hey Caroline just letting you know my wedding is this weekend. I’m bringing it to Mystic Falls so you don’t even have to leave your house. I want to help you forget your mother’s (very sad) death and celebrate the people who are still living in this family. Can’t wait to see you there.’_

And yeah, maybe her delivery had been a little blasé – compared to the melodramatic way she usually delivered her situations, she had been extraordinarily mild. She was, after all, very numb to most of the poisonous relationship drama between her and her cousin, and those who had been in her life for any real amount of time had witnessed at least a back-and-forth between them.

But the look on his face was… terrifying.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Please don’t kill my cousin.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Uhm?!” she said, voice pitching in the middle. Honestly? She couldn’t think of an argument there for like, probably too long. She snapped her fingers when she came across one. “That’s not a win, that’s a forfeit!”

He scowled at her, then turned it back to the phone, eyes darting to her reply, which was: _“Where and what time?_ ”

“You have slightly more control than I would have ever guessed,” he said softly, passing back her phone. “I would’ve given leave for a much more rambunctious response.”

She very pointedly did not mention that she had herself a full-tilt, seeing-red tantrum in the middle of a crowded shopping centre and needed to be escorted out by security.

“Are we on the same page now?” she said, putting her phone away in her purse and taking a drink from the bottle.

He took it from her when she was done, and took a hearty mouthful.

“If she ever speaks to you like that in front of me,” he said, his voice very, very low. “I will –“

“Leave her to me,” she said simply. “I have all these new vampire powers I want to flex. But it has to be discreet; mom would roll in her grave if I ever ate her. Or if I let you eat her.”

He pursed his lips.

“Well, in honor of your mother, I swear I won’t kill her,” he said dryly. “I don’t believe she would begrudge a little hell raising, however.”

“Obviously,” she said brightly, and cracked a grin at his sudden chuckle. “That’s why it had to be you.”


	2. Plane Old Conversation

Once he had shown her to their private jet and shown off the interior (“Would you like to try out the bed with me, love?” “There isn’t a word stronger than _no_ , is there?”) they relaxed in the cushy armchairs, on the way to Mystic Falls.

“I have notes to crash course you in everything Forbes,” she said, looking at her _List of Things to Mention to Klaus._ “Everyone thinks we’ve been dating for as long as we’ve known each other. I told them you were an artist from Scandinavia, and you’re a fairly private person with ties to old money. Anything else is the edited truth of what we are like. Just in case we… you know. Do like we usually do.”

“And how is it we… usually do?”

“Not-flirt?” she tried, awkward.

“Fair,” he said, and continued to watch her, head half buried in the soft pillow of his headrest. His eyes were half lidded and lazy, but bright as they lingered on her. When he had her attention, he flicked his eyes to her notepad. “You knew I would come.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, and cleared her throat, looking at her lap. “Thanks, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t dare mention it,” he quipped. “What else is pertinent information to my crash course?”

“Well, Clark – the fiancé – is kind of… He’s kind of-?” she searched for a comparison. “Okay, so think Elijah. Now take away the super dry wit, immaculate suit, loyalty and fun. That’s Clark.”

“You think Elijah is fun?”

“No,” she said pointedly. “I don’t.”

He laughed. It made his dimples come out, and Caroline was maybe just a liiiiiiittle too drunk not to beam stupidly at the side of his head. She rested against her own cushion, and just smiled while he smirked back, side by side like idiots.

“He’s not so dull,” Klaus promised her.

“He is next to you,” she said boldly.

“I make trouble,” he mused.

“Yeah,” she said, and giggled. “It’s fun.”

“Good to know it’s only a bare quart of a bottle of bourbon that loosens your tongue,” he said. “Pass me your list. You get a nap in.”

“I don’t want to nap,” she protested, head lifting off the seat. “No, we have things to talk about. Like why I don’t like Clark and _please_ don’t leave him and me in a room alone together.”

“Why?”

“Because if he tries to touch me ever again,” she said, a touch too coolly. “I _will_ kill him. And I’m a good vampire, and I’ve been doing great at my diet, and I _don’t_ need a cheat day.”

“But if I have reason to kill him on your behalf, I will.”

“No, don’t,” she said lamely, because _fuck Clark_. But also- “You can’t come if you’re going to be violent to everyone who treats me bad. They all treat me badly.”

“You said you wanted me as I am,” he reminded her. “Violence is rather an ingrained part of my overall disposition.”

“Klaus,” she said patiently. “You are more than just your fangs.”

“But they are part of me,” he rebutted. “And I do like to use them.”

“Use your mouth in a different way,” she pleaded. “You’re good at that, too. Your tongue is basically godly.”

He arched a brow, pursed lips pushing into an unwanted smile that was sweet on his cleanly shaven face. In fact, it was too sweet. It was honestly very disconcerting, knowing him in her mind’s eye as the feral black-and-yellow eyed hybrid, and this snoozy, cherubic, pouty lipped man beside her.

Her semi-drunk brain processed the words that had come out of her mouth, and she blinked at him as she dragged her attention from his smile upward.

“I meant you can be mean,” she said blankly. “Not… like… I’m not talking about kissing, or…”

“The other way I’m good with my mouth, you mean?” he said innocently, perfectly poised. “You’re not talking of the way I used my ‘godly’ tongue to have you come undone beneath me?”

“Oh,” she said, because she was… a little in over her head. “No.”

And she was _fucking starving_. Her eyes drifted to his throat, which was pulled attractively with the way his head was angled to see her, and found the throb of his pulse banging away in the jugular vein she would love to give just the tiniest of nips. Just a little tear; a tiny graze.

Her fangs peeked out from beyond her human teeth as though in offering.

Caroline sternly fixed her eyes forward, feeling a slither of darkness tickle the edge of her vision. She squeezed her lids closed, and exhaled a breath, thinking about dead bunnies and a whole ass bleeding doe to try and cool her heated face.

“I need to stop drinking,” she muttered. “I’m too hungry to test my self-control around you.”

“If you like,” he said slowly. “I can have one of the hostess’ offer you her wrist.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t eat people. I’m being good.”

“She’s well compensated,” he said. “And I can stop you if you go too far.”

“But you can’t stop me _all the time_ ,” she said sharply, and opened her eyes to glare at him. “If I start feeding now, I won’t stop. And I’m already stopped. So quit offering. It isn’t helping.”

He said nothing to that, watching her, his shoulders a little higher than the relaxed set they had been in when she shut her eyes.

She looked at her notes.

“So we covered that Clark is a human trash pile,” she pressed on, willfully ignoring her spike of temper. “And even though he’s a _pathetic_ human trash pile, he doesn’t really deserve to die.”

“I remain unconvinced,” he told the side of her head frankly. “I’ve never known you to threaten any one if they don’t have it coming. If this man makes you so uncomfortable he isn’t a good man, I can guarantee it.”

“Not being good doesn’t equate to a death sentence,” she scolded. “Look. He’s old and kind of creepy? But in a stupid way. He’s just - touchy. Not like, aggressive touchy, just sneaky touchy. He tried it on with me twice when I was human and it really freaked me out, and he didn’t get the hint to leave me alone. But I was - too young and dumb to do anything really obnoxious, so maybe I lead him on, I guess.”

“You’ve never been dumb,” he assured her.

“No,” she agreed. “I was… intimidated. Maybe a little flattered by the attention? I don’t know. It’s a bit twisted. I was like – sixteen the last time I saw him.”

“How long has Bethany been dating him?” he said, alarmed. “Isn’t she your age?”

“Yeah, we’re the same age. Nearly to the day. We both have birthdays in October, which is just – I let her win, now, because mom put her foot down about making everyone choose who to celebrate ages ago,” she scoffed. “But I _was_ winning.”

He didn’t say anything, so she just looked at her notes.

The next on the list was sleeping arrangements – as in, he could go back to the mansion from whence he came while he was on his break from fake boyfriend duty - but for some reason she didn’t mention it. She skipped straight to the last point, which was:

“I told them we’re going to Paris in spring,” she went on hurriedly, keen to change the tone of the conversation. “I think they think you’re going to propose.”

“I wouldn’t propose to you in Paris, it’s been done to death,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Elijah has a place we could borrow if you like. When we land I’ll have him send pictures. It’s exquisite in the spring.”

“If you want,” she shrugged. She cast a sly look at him from under her lashes, but he was just watching her, looking a little more at ease in the couch. “You’re not even going to ask why they think you’re going to propose to me?”

“Obviously we’re perfect for each other,” he said. “You’ve no doubt done your due diligence by singing my praises for it to reach back to dear Bethany, I’m sure.”

She had.

She shut her notepad with a sigh and eased into her chair again, thoughtfully looking up at the roof, which was bathed in the bright golden light of the midday sun. She watched the sun spot move for a little while, consumed with thinking, and found herself looking over to him when she next came into the waking world.

He had been watching the roof too, but feeling her gaze, returned the favor.

“You can still get an hour of shut eye in,” he informed her. “I’ll wake you before we land.”

Her smile was tiny, but no less warm than usual.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Is it the plane?”

“No.”

“Do you not want to sleep?”

“Sort of,” she admitted sheepishly. “I have thinking I need to do.”

“Tell me,” he said simply. “I’m good at plotting.”

“I didn’t say I was plotting.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, giving her a crooked smile that coaxed yet another laugh out of her. Oh boy, that was becoming a fast habit.

“I was just thinking,” she told him coolly, smoothing hands over her jeans. “I need new dresses. I don’t have anything that’ll be modest and sexy and wedding appropriate. So that’s a tomorrow problem, and you know I hate getting my dresses last minute.”

“I seem to recall you wearing the ones I gave you just fine,” he remarked. It wasn’t mentioned nastily, and she didn’t take it that way.

But to think of her gorgeous blue gown made her stomach swoop with a sudden bolt of nostalgia; her ball dress was on a pretty caged bust in the corner of her room, still on display. (Which was, if she was honest with herself, a large part of the reason he was _not allowed_ into her house.)

“My ball gown was gorgeous and it fitted me like a dream,” she sighed, remembering it. “And Elena stole my other dress – what else was I going to do?”

“Your Princess of Monaco dress,” he teased.

“I actually was the belle of that hall, thank you very much,” she said, mock-prim.

“I don’t doubt it. You could’ve gone in your jeans and still been every star in my sky,” he said softly. “I do think it’s a shame I never saw the latter gown on you, though.”

She softened her smile.

“I’ll have to show you photos,” she offered.

“I’d like that,” he told her.

And again with the gazing.

She cleared her throat.

“This isn’t helping me plot anything, Mister Mikealson.”

“Forgive me, Miss Forbes,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You were saying we needed to brace the boutiques?”

“It’s such a hassle,” she said grumpily, and turned so that her reclined seat supported her sleepy body. She made the unconscious decision to put both hands under her pillow, and curled her legs up on the foot rest. “Ordinarily I could just – you know, whammy it and make it happen. But the ‘celebrations’ begin the second _Bethany_ touches down on _my_ home ground. She gets in today and we've all got to go to dance lessons, and then they're having a family dinner - which I was not invited to. Tomorrow morning we’re due to go help set up, and then there’s gifts we need to register. So then I can go get my dress, but it doesn’t have time to be altered if it isn’t already perfect. And it _has_ to be perfect. I can’t misstep.”

“You rarely do.”

“I can’t lose to her,” she worried, and studied his face. He turned in his own seat to mirror her, folding his arms around his chest like he was giving himself a hug. He was all open and gentle edges, and she felt the overwhelming urge to tell him the thoughts running around her head. “I just… I need a win. Things have been… rough, lately.”

“What’s happened, love?” he murmured.

“I don’t know, everything?” she said, with a touch of humor that did very little to soften the blow of her sad voice. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go away. In fact, it stayed, lodged in her windpipe, until she said: “I really miss my mom. She would know what to do.”

He breathed in deep.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he told her quietly. “I quite liked your mother.”

“Yeah,” she said. What else could she possibly say to that? She liked her mom too, but Liz Forbes had not liked Klaus.

“You don’t deserve the many terrible things that have happened to you,” he told her. “And losing your family… there is no greater pain. I wish I could help you.”

“You are helping me,” she said. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Of course I did,” he muttered. “You asked me.”

She didn’t know what to say. Or what to do. Things were like – so _hard_ , okay. Tyler had been her first love, yes. But he was nothing, _nothing,_ compared to the way she felt about Klaus. He was just… perfect. Which was so annoying! But true.

He was so beautiful when he was unguarded and kind; but so delicious when he was angry and plotting. He bent his knee to her every will – and he had power in spades to get her what she wanted. He adored her. He chased her. He was romantic and bombastic and arrogant and so, so interesting. He was exciting and arty and bold and he didn’t call her names when she lost her temper, because he was usually losing his own.

“Hey,” she said. “I miss you, too.”

“You told me not to come back,” he recalled. “That was your deal, that forced me away.”

“I didn’t say I regretted that,” she muttered. “I said I missed you.”

“If you picked up the phone, love, I would’ve come.”

“The phone isn’t the same,” she said simply, and tried to smile. “And I wanted to see your New Orleans.”

He beamed at her.

“You didn’t see an inch of it,” he commented. “After this is all said and done, come back with me. I’ll show it to you properly; all her many facets. And then we can go to Paris and post so many photos to your social media that the awful Bethany’s vile newly wedded bliss will be rotted.”

She cracked a grin.

“Will you get me a fake engagement ring?”

“The most ridiculous carat you’ve ever seen,” he mused.

“And I want a horse drawn carriage ride around the Eiffel Tower,” she said.

“As you wish,” he mused, eyes glittering. “But it’d be more lovely around the Seine. We can go pick our own grapes, and taste champagne the way it’s meant to be tasted.”

She sighed.

“I want a full tour of a castle.”

“Which one?”

“Whichever one you lived in,” she teased.

He snorted.

“I lived in most of the ones still standing, and quite a few of the ones that were lost to time,” he informed her casually. “I don’t know if my favourite is in any condition to be toured, truth be told.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “You can paint the parts the way you remember them on a canvas somewhere. Show me all the places you loved, and miss.”

“We’d need a lot longer,” he muttered. “Than a single springtime.”

“Hmm?” she said, dazed with the daydream currently hijacking her train of thought.

She saw crepes and strawberries, fitted dresses with flirty hemlines, Louboutins and croissants and an artfully arranged beret. She saw a gilded theatre while she was on Klaus’ arm in a neat suit with slightly disheveled curls and the barest beginnings of his stubble lining his cheeks. She saw them take the box seats high in the grandest possible platform, saw him whispering the French translations into her ear, his hand on her knee while the performance was still on.

She saw his hand slide up her thigh with a daring smile, a wicked kiss, a murmur in French to _keep quiet, love, the thespians are at work_. A crook of his fingers against her to discover she was not wearing underwear to their very fancy show. Her lips, painted red, inches away from his mouth as he leaned forward to warn her she was being naughty – her teasing tongue flicking out to trace the seam of his full pout. She instructed him not to kiss her lips: _you’ll smudge my lipstick_.

She saw him do it anyway, and wear the smears around his lips like blood and wine, marking her thighs with her own paint as he got on his knees and reminded her how good his mouth could be. She saw herself squirming with her legs boxing his ears, and his devious golden eyes peering up at her from between them.

“You told your family we were going in spring,” he reminded her, making her blink into reality. “You didn’t mention for how long.”

_Oh no._

Fake dating. Right.

 _Oh, no_ , she thought. _I’m… like… a little bit in love with him._

“Yeah,” she said faintly.

 _Wait, maybe I just need to get laid? It’s been a while. It’s been – A WHILE. Is he the last-??? Yeah, this makes sense, he’s the last person I’ve slept with. But… why have I not slept with anyone else…!?_ Came the desperate tumble in her mind. _I’m not – oh no, I can’t be - I can’t be in love – with Klaus! WAIT! Maybe I’m really drunk and I haven’t realized it? MAYBE THIS IS JUST BIOLOGY. My who-ha is like – HEY REMEMBER HIM AND HIS TONGUE! Yeah! That’s what it is. That’s what it has to be. Right?_

“Are you alright?” he said slowly. “You’ve gone a touch pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she croaked, and sat up quickly, shoving out of her seat. “I’m just – gonna – excuse me –“

And like the very intimidating vampire she was, she skipped to the bathroom, and hid behind the locked door.


	3. I love you, asshole

** Friday, Early Evening.  **

When she had managed to calm herself down, she returned to her seat to find him disappeared. And while she had the chance, she took a blanket and huddled into it, presenting her back to the seat beside her. She didn’t sleep a wink, but she sure pretended to.

It turned out she didn’t need to bother, because he didn’t come back until the plane was preparing to land. Which was great, because her vampiric metabolism had returned her back to the beginnings of sober, and she had time to calm her farm.

“I was thinking,” she said coolly. “We should stay together.”

“In my mansion?”

“If you don’t mind,” she mentioned. “It’s just weird if we don’t.”

He shrugged.

"Your show. You tell me."

Great. Now he was mad at her.

"I want to stay with you," she said, hoping it would do some legwork with smoothing over the weird tension between them. She fiddled with the end of her skirt, then flattened it out rhythmically. Under her lashes, she looked at him.

He was reclined easily in his chair, lips red and full. His face was flushed and the usually artfully arranged curls on his head were not as charming as they had been earlier.

One of the waitresses walked by with an odd swing in her step, primly fixing her silken necktie. It didn't work - a stripe of fresh blood bloomed on the fabric. She didn't spare Klaus a glance, but her heart thudded extra loud when she walked past.

"Oh." Caroline put her eyes back down to her knees. Sure. What else had he been doing? Trying to preoccupy herself from thinking dangerous thoughts, she pulled open her bag and flipped through her notepad to stare blindly at the lists inside.

"What?" he prompted. He did a quick back and forth between her and the waitress, who was received through another door by a friend with a smothered giggle.

"Nothing!" she said, falsely bright. "Nothing. Never mind. I just have - things I need to organise. Give me a minute."

The problem with Klaus was, he was really old, and really flawed. He seemed to have all of her own personal demons stacked nice and high in the matter of his psyche. Evidently he pieced together what her deal must've been, because his hand closed over her wrist to pull the notepad away from her face.

"It was only feeding," he said simply.

Caroline didn't miss a beat.

"For an _hour_?"

His thumb stroked over the meaty part of her hand. At the first sign of any give in her tight clutches, her removed the notepad and set it in the pocket in front of them, then traced the line of each of her fingers with his fingertip.

"I took my time, yes." He shifted in his seat, taking care to unfurl each of her clamped fingers to feather his touch on the insides of her palm, following each crease in her hand. "I wanted the bourbon to soak her blood for a while before I sampled. I didn't think you'd appreciate me imbibing when you've been so strict with yourself. But I didn't touch her beyond keeping her upright."

"I don't care," she said. It was the worst lie she'd ever told, followed by the worst lie she'd continue to tell. "What you and your bloodbags get up to is so not my problem. You can have sex with them if you want, it doesn't bother me."

Electric humming filled her veins, the promise of what those hands could do barely kept behind her eyes. She was so sure if she turned around and told him to join the mile high club with her, he could make the jet take a different route to Mystic Falls and give them time to try out the bed.

"Normally I would say that jealousy serves no one," he admitted. "But I quite like the color of possessiveness on you."

She sucked her lip into her mouth and bit into it before she could argue with him, because a) he wasn't an idiot and b) the more she rallied, the less control she had over her reactions. She was just so hungry... and worried... and turned on. Any movement she made had to be carefully thought about in advance, because all of her instincts were screaming about doing something crazy.

Like mounting him on the bar.

"It's not possessive," she debated, strained. "It's - concern."

"Concern?" He lifted her hand to his mouth, and gave the seam between wrist and hand the smallest kiss. "Far be it from me to cause you any distress. What can I do to amend my very poor behavior?"

Her mouth opened. What nearly came out was: _Put your hand between my legs and ring the call bell, so your little side piece can see what you can do for someone you have real feelings for._

She could see it, too. Hooking his hand against her crotch, letting him drag the fabric aside, and delving his fingers into her like it was something they did regularly. She was spreading her legs nice and wide to show off the artful play of his hand, so when the bloodbag came back in, she could see everything.

Her fangs slid out nice and quick, making her bottom jaw drop open to accommodate the new intrusion. Her chest was heaving, her panting quiet, and Klaus pressed his mouth to the base of her thumb, sucking a small kiss against it.

"Give me the task that's made your pretty fangs come out to play," he said quietly. Trapping her hand to his cheek, he turned to press a kiss on her palm. "Let me know what pokes the dragon."

Mindless, she looked at his plush lips, then nails scraped carefully on his cheek, sending little zig zags of pleasant tingles into the nerves of her hand. She looked at his throat, sliding her fingertips into the ruffled curl above his ear.

 _Put your hand between my thighs_ , she thought loudly. _Tell me how much you wish it was your fucking tongue. Say you'll do anything for me. Make her watch the way you need me. Tell me you want me._

_Tell me I'm the one._

Oooh, abort. _Abort._ That fantasy was - doing something, for her. Too many things.

Her teeth snapped shut and she tightened her legs, so far into her own head she expected the resistance of his wrist in between her soft thighs.

An intellectual part of her brain understood that like, this guy was going to be down, if she wanted to-... You know. Address (undress) the issue between them. Like healthy, well adjusted vampires, they could just - talk. Set up boundries. Figure out where they might go from there.

But the more regulated part of her head was that she had complete control over everything she did, and wasn't going to be a slave to her emotions on a whim. He hadn't been dragged along to her weekend from hell to distract her with his stupid charming sex thing, okay? She needed to concentrate, and not fall for the gorgeous tilt of his mouth, or the knowing in his eyes.

"It's really warm in here," she said, taking her hand away from his face to wrestle out of her jacket. "It's so warm in here! Wow. Cool. Have your special jet people never heard of air conditioning?"

He didn't say anything as she struggled out of her sleeves. Her skin had gone damp with a new sweat, and she bared her teeth to get out of the cuffs. She threw the jacket on the ground and readjusted herself on the seat. The slight change in pressure on her backside made her grind into a slightly less jerky position.

There was a very real chance she was leaking fluids on the seat.

"I assume you had everything in here custom made, so maybe it was your fault," she went on, studiously not looking at him. She made an ' _aha_!' at seeing where he'd put her notes, and flicked through them, pretending like they both couldn't see her hands shaking, or smell the heat drifting from her panties. "So! I also mentioned that we live in separate places because of your work and my school, but we were probably moving in together once I graduated - but I also mentioned at some stage that we can't agree on where we want to move, which is very us."

"Very us," he echoed. His arm was like, really close to hers. She was hyper aware of him like he was actively boiling her in her own skin. She crossed her legs to put more space between them, but he spread his knees to make up for it. She adjusted in her seat. Prayed he wasn't going to ask about the squirming. "Did you say I had some human profession?"

“You’re an artist, and you do dealings with all of that sort of stuff, so New Orleans is good for your business, which I pretend not to know much about because I didn't want to over sell it,” she said. "But you're successful."

"Naturally," he assured her. "Don't worry, I can wax poetic about form and light and color all the live long day. I think even Elijah got sick of my artist's ramblings from time to time."

“Yeah," her voice pitched in the middle. "I know."

"You know?" He arched his brow. "Something you and Elijah discussed, was it?"

"No, I just meant that I know what you get like when you're invested in something," she hastened to explain. "You know. You get - focused. Like nothing in the world exists if it isn't about that one thing."

"Art, revenge, war," he listed. His smile was incredibly sly. "Women, from time to time."

She snorted.

"Not sure if that's a compliment," she said lightly.

"Not by virtue of the fact that I am attracted to a woman, no," he said, a touch too coolly. "I gauge her importance by how long the obsession lasts."

"Obsession?" she repeated quickly. She looked at him, which was a mistake. They were already super close. Her hand rubbed self-consciously at the side of her throat, and the clutch of her legs loosened a little.

"Obsession," he agreed, putting on the forlorn pout. "I don't know if you know this about me, Caroline, but I can be quite stubborn. Once I want something, I will have it."

"I know that," she mentioned.

Her fingers edged up to tuck hair behind her ear, and he watched it, eyes tracking back down to her throat. All he did was follow that line to her breasts, and then to her crotch - the heat that even she could smell. The new rush of arousal came from the entirely reluctant drag of his eyes back up to her face.

"When I find something worthy of my time, I am wholly devoted to that one cause," he said. "I think of it often. The things I will do to achieve it. How it would feel to have it be within my grasp. When I am painting, I dream in acrylic. When I am warmongering, I taste steel in my teeth. When I am thinking of a woman, I can't escape her. I hear her voice call my name in the street. I taste her skin on my tongue when I drink from another's vein. I smell her in the sheets on my bed. I feel her run her hands over me when I shower."

"Even when she isn't there?"

"Especially when she isn't there," he said dryly. "You'd think distance would do something to dampen the flames, and the urge to drag her into a bed and make her understand my particular brand of kindness, but it doesn't. It just makes me think of the many different ways I would get it done."

"You sleep with people all the time, regardless of if they're your 'obsession', or whatever," she mocked. She was nearly light headed. Was he being that obvious? Was he talking about wanting to be with her? "Rebekah said you hosted an orgy last week."

"Concerning to know you've been in contact with my sister."

"I had to know where to find you," she blurted.

"You should've called _me_."

Flustered, she pointed at his face and wagged her finger.

"Do not change the subject, buddy. You are a regular sex fiend, and you can be all romantic and poetic about your 'one woman' or whatever, but you go to the bone zone all the time, don't even try to get out of that one."

"I wouldn't dare, love. I enjoy my life and the things in it, and sex happens to be part of that. Be it with the one person, or with many people, or with all the other kinks that come and go with the tide," he said freely. "I dally with other people, yes. That means absolutely nothing to the realm of wanting my one singular woman. It's a drop in the ocean, compared to the things I want to do with her."

He tilted his head at her.

"And I happen to think it's good I take the edge off, lest I see her and rip all her clothes off. She wouldn't like that."

"Oh, she would _not_ like that," she parroted, blinking hugely at him.

"Besides," he drawled. His smirk widened into a cheeky smile. "It's not as though you've been a saint since a particular tryst in the woods, hm?"

"Seriously?" she said flatly. She pressed her hands to her face, feeling her cheeks full of heat. "God, why is it so hot in here?"

"It isn't," he said mildly. "Now who's changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

(She was trying to.)

"I won't press for names," he told her, some of the mad glitter in his eyes. "I won't even ask for quantity."

"Quantity!" she exclaimed. She smacked his arm. "Klaus! Don't be gross."

"I just want to have a yes or no answer from you," he went on, leaning on his elbow on the cushy chair arm between them. "Did any even hold a candle to me?"

She was going to try and play it cool. That was the game plan. She thought in rapid succession all the things she could say to throw him off the line of questioning.

"Did any of them make you think of me?" he went on. His tone lowered. "Did you ever think of me, at all, in the time we've spent apart?"

"Yes," came, unbidden from her throat.

"Tell me when," he urged her. He softened, leaned closer. "Tell me when you thought of me, Caroline. I've told you. I couldn't shake you from the corner of my eye. You haunted me."

"You didn't call."

"You didn't want me near you," he pointed out. "I had my instructions. I was waiting for your que."

"I didn't think you wouldn't call," she said weakly. "Or-... Send an envoy, or something."

"You missed me."

"I did." She looked at him, lashes fluttering as she studied every inch of his face. "I missed you really badly."

His gaze only flickered to her mouth for a split second.

"When?" he pressed. "When did you miss me the most?"

She shrugged one shoulder jerkily.

"It doesn't matter, we can fix things now," she told him. "We can - change the deal, or something."

"Did you think of me when you had another man on top of you? When someone else's throat was by your ear? Did you feel my hands when he grabbed you?" His eyes were swirling. She wasn't sure that he knew he was approaching the edge of a shift. A touch of yellow, and a bloom of black, all moving until he was full out wolf staring her down. "Did you miss me enough to sigh my name when you came?"

Fuck, he was just so _perfect_.

She understood him. Of course she did. He was like her, that way, with being needed, and wanted. Jealously, possession. The deep seated need to know loyalty, and unquestionable love. To be put first. To be the only.

He was jealous of lovers she hadn't had, but she'd been jealous of a bloodbag.

The door wooshed open, and the stewardess reappeared, looking very pleased with herself and smelling of freshly sprayed perfume.

Caroline let her own monster out, glaring at her with spidery veins and black eyes. The human jolted, eyes widening. Her pulse kicked, and she seemed to resolve to keep walking.

Caroline gave her the Mother of all Up-and-Downs as she stood, hands clasped neatly in front of her. It did nothing to hide the burst of nervous sweat on her palms.

"We'll be landing shortly, sir," the girl said. "Miss. Can I get you anything while I'm here?"

Klaus cast a glance at her, then made no move to hide his wicked smirk as he looked back at Caroline.

"Thank you, love," he said. "That'll be all. You smell delightful, by the way."

He was stirring. She knew he was stirring. But it worked.

She felt sick with how it made her feel - insignificant and easily replaced. Coupled with the line of questioning from before, Caroline felt pretty useless, all things considered.

"Don't mind the help," he mused. "She's only young."

"A little too young, actually," she said snidely, and put her notes away with a rough shove. Her whole body went up on a knife's edge when the girl walked to the other door. Though her heart still thudded, it wasn't ringing of pleasure or joy. Caroline turned fully in her seat to make sure she went through the door, then threw herself into the chair. She folded her arms across herself and huffed.

He put a hand over her knee and gave it a fond pat, which she reflexively shoved with a 'ugh'.

"Don't worry your pretty head, Caroline. I'm not currently a fan of brunettes."

"Uh huh," she said dully.

He put his hand back over her knee, and massaged his fingers into her flesh.

"Don't be so cross," he drawled. When she didn't say anything, he reached over and touched her chin to lift her face at him. He was smiling as though he was unphased, but there was a weight in his eyes she felt impressing on her soul. "You know I only have eyes for you."

She felt like crying. Wasn't sure why. There was a lot happening, and she was hungry and nervous.

"I haven't slept with anyone since I was with you," she told him softly.

His face... He softened all over. Sliding his hand to cup her cheek, he lingered, the lines of his face melting away.

"It's been a long time since then," he murmured.

"Ages," she agreed.

"Why didn't you go to bed with any one?" His brows contracted. "You can't keep denying yourself the many pleasures of living. No blood, no sex? Why are you keeping yourself so strictly guarded?"

She took her face away from his touch and stiffened when he replaced his hand on her knee. She didn't push him away or even so much as look at it, but he removed himself onto his side of the seat.

Taking a deep breath, she found a tiny amount of calm. She held onto it with everything she was, coming down from whatever emotional high she had crested. This weekend was going to be hellish, and it always had been - she had expected him to help, not to give it another layer of torture to look forward to.

"Anyway," she said loudly. She dared him to push her on this. She wanted him to start a fight about it, so she could punch him in his perfect mouth. He'd asked her a question that she had just blatantly ignored - not because she didn't want to tell him.

She was sure if she had an answer, she would.

But that was the truth of it. She didn't know why she hadn't been having sex with people. She had a sneaking suspicion it was because she was at least, a little bit in love with him. But that had been such a recent revelation... she hadn't come to terms with it herself. How could she fire that one back at him?

 _I haven't wanted to sleep with any one because I love you, asshole_ , wasn't how she thought it would come out. _Now buy me a pony and take me somewhere I can live in a castle in Louboutins._

"I'm gonna have to go into town to get these stupid dresses," she grumbled, and watched outside the window as they started to touch the ground. "And I need shoes. Pretty ones. Expensive ones. I want Louboutins."

"I'll call my people," he said, already staring at his phone.

* * *

There was a personal car service waiting for them when they finally stopped the plane, because of course there was.

The ride back to his place was quiet and comfortable, but she felt a shift between them from the conversation. It was pensive, in a way. Contemplative. She had rarely spent so much time with him - the scandalous sex in the woods was about the longest they'd ever like, hung out.

She wasn't sure if he knew she had, at one stage, turned herself on thinking about the sexy shenanigans they could get up to. He should have been able to smell her, but if he did, why didn't he say something candid about it? Or even ask about what had gotten the panty party going? It didn't seem like him not to needle the particulars, especially since she was super horny about something he'd teased out of her.

 _There’s no way he guessed what you were thinking_ , she told herself firmly _. Don’t be stupid. He can’t read minds._

 _Or can he?_ Hissed a voice at the back of her head. She whipped around to look at him, but he was on his phone, scrolling through Reddit. _He’s a thousand years old! He’s a super vampire! He wouldn’t tell anyone if he could read minds!_

 _Yes he would_ , said the far more sensible part of her mind. _And he’d use it every chance he got_.

It only stood to reason that Caroline put it to the test, and thought some very risqué thoughts at the side of his head, narrowing her eyes.

“What have I done now?” he muttered, without looking up from his phone.

“Hang on, I’m testing something,” she said.

She thought about when she’d stripped his shirt off of him; the heat in his eyes as he pulled the front of her bra down to uncover her breasts. She thought of the reverent way his mouth formed her name, before he ducked down to suck at her nipples, while she clutched his hair in both hands.

 _Waaiiiitttt_ , she thought. _He probably doesn’t want to see himself_ …

So she thought about the spicy lingerie she collected. Specifically the black set, with the caged bralette and the lace garter. She thought about the way it pressed her boobs up and together, made her waist look tiny with the belted garter. She thought about the first time she wore it, with her thighs highs and a pair of black patent leather pumps, and the way her bare mound had been framed so prettily by lace.

“It’s not working,” she accused, frustrated.

“You’re not doing anything,” he said, looking up at her. “What were you trying?”

“To see if you could read my thoughts,” she explained. “Don’t ask how I got here.”

“And what were you thinking so aggressively at me to see if you had my attention?” he teased. “Perhaps I saw it all, and didn’t react.”

“No chance," she scoffed.

He cocked a brow, slanting his mouth at her.

"I did, you know," he told her lowly. "See everything. I want you to do it again."

Sweetening her smile, she cocked her head at him and hummed in amusement. The weird tension between them had completely melted away. She wondered if there would ever be something they both couldn't come back from.

"Oh no," she cooed. "You didn't see what I was thinking. No way."

"I did," he told her. Had she been a lesser woman, he might've convinced her with: "I saw you in pretty lingerie."

"Nice try." She made a point to recross her legs, riding her skirt up an inch. "No, I wasn't thinking that at you. I was thinking about Paris."

"Paris?"

"Mm-hm. Louboutins."

"Ah, shoes." He nodded in apparent acquiesce. "Of course."

He had the nerve... the actual balls... to think that she was done with him. After the shit he put her through on the plane? Please.

"I was thinking about going to the theater with you in a box above the crowd," she went on in a velvet pur. "You having to translate all the French for me."

"You put a date on it, love, and I'll take you to France," he told his device.

She prettied her smile.

"I was thinking about your hand, and how I put it on my thigh." He snapped his attention to her, not so much as breathing. Better. "And how when you slide it up, there are no panties there to stop you from touching me."

His throat flexed around a swallow.

“And then what do I do?”

“You tell me to be quiet and let the thespians work,” she said, and batted her lashes. "There are other people in the box. I can't make a sound. But you're doing the most to try and drag it out of me... and the noise is so loud."

"The noise?" His eyes went to her bare legs, and the hitch of her skirt.

"Yeah," she sighed. A little put upon. A little like a sex noise she knew she had made with him.

"Then what?" he prompted.

"You wreck my lipstick with your mouth." She tutted at him. "I'm not happy about that."

"I'll make it up to you."

"Well, you try to," she said innocently. "Except you get it all over my thighs, Klaus, and it's smudging all over me. I mean, I can't have you down there with all that color. It'll ruin your suit."

"I'll take the suit off."

"No you _won't_. We're in _public_ ," she said, a hard edge to her voice. The swirl of yellow was back in his eyes. She dragged a tongue over the ridges of her teeth. "You made the mess. You're going to clean it. Wipe it up with a pocketsquare. And while I'm sitting there, waiting, I'm going to dip my hand into the mess between my legs, and let you watch from your knees."

"That's no fun," he murmured.

"It is for me," she informed him. "I want you to watch. I also want you to taste the blood from the artery that runs here." Her hand trailed up from her knee, a fingertip poised to her skin. She drew a spiral, a soft snaking line, as she lead it up to her skirt.

"Now, Caroline, this pretty fantasy of yours is going to pose somewhat an issue."

"Oh?" She made it as much a breathy noise without verging into gasp territory that she could. Because he was so focused on the trailing touch of her finger edging under the hem of her skirt, she could see the stiffening length inside his jeans. It was delicious, how eager he was.

"You'll have to be quiet if you don't want to get caught. I, however, don't like you quiet." A tip of his tongue peeked out to wet the edge of his lips, and she thought it rang of the wolf inside him, licking hungry chops at a tasty treat. "I want you dripping on my face, sweetheart, and crying out."

"You'll just have to wait for that," she told him mildly. "It's not happening in a fancy theater. I'm a lady."

Her hand folded on her thigh, half disappearing beneath the skirt. She massaged it and let the natural tension in her body go, making her knees turn out as she widened her stance. The smell of her arousal was quickly becoming entwined with his, drifting between them like a poorly kept secret.

"I'll wait," he promised her thickly. "But I'm going to make you come first. I want to get you to lose your mind on it."

"Mm. Tempting," she hummed shortly, as though in thought. "No. I think I'll just make you watch."

His mouth curled into a somewhat sinister smirk, eyes finally rising to meet her own. He studied her expression, lingering on her mouth and throat, then returned his attention to her legs when her hand inched up just a little.

"I'll offer my tongue," he told her crotch, the sound coming out in gravel.

"I won't use it."

He swallowed.

"If you didn't want to be cruel, you're doing an outstanding impression of it." He not at all discreetly put his hand over his length and grimaced as he shifted it into a more comfortable position in his jeans. "Caroline, love. Was this what you wanted on the plane?"

"This was only one of the things I wanted on the plane." She tilted her head back onto the seat, her free hand going up to cup her bra over her shirt. Making a show of clawing at her boob, she finally rubbed two fingers over the damp patch on her panties. The groan was not for show.

"There was more?" he repeated.

"Mm. Just one other thing." Her body was singing a song that would sound a lot more beautiful if there was a harmony. The nipple being teased by the cup of her bra was so tingly she thought that a mouth might be the only thing that would make it feel anything close to normal.

"What was the other?"

She thought about marking him as hers with the stunned flight attendant as her audience, and it got a visceral reaction out of her once again. The cute little rub she was giving herself under the skirt was not going to cut it, and she pressed harder and bent forward from the waist.

"Caroline," he coaxed. "Was it so good for you?"

"I can't stop," was her breathy reply.

"I'd be supremely disappointed if you did. Tell me what that one was about."

Her head lolled forward, then to the side, as he trailed his hand over the curtain of hair that had hid her face from him. He tucked it all behind her ear, and smoothed his thumb over the long line of her throat.

"Mm. No."

"No?" His blunt nails dragged on her nape, and dipped behind her collar. "Why?"

"Too good," she admitted. "Fantasies like that get ruined by reality."

"Or improved," he urged. He circled his hand around to trail over the front of her swallowing throat, and down her decolletage. "You should slip your fingers into your panties and play properly."

"Are you seriously telling me how to get off?" She arched a brow at him, batting open her lashes to half mast. The look of him was like a dog waiting for a bared throat to sink into. She pulled her panties to the side and swirled her fingers in the slick, purposefully being loud to observe his reaction.

His upper lip twitched, two Hybrid eyes blinking into existence. He widened his thighs to put a lazy free hand on the hard ridge of his shaft, already fully erect, and trailing on into abrasive jeans. The grasp on her shirt reminded her of when he'd yanked off the other one in the woods.

"If you rip another shirt of mine," she warned him. "I'm going to be really fucking mad, and I'm not gonna be able to finish."

"That is the very last thing I want right now," he promised her.

He flicked open a button on her blouse, tugging the next two out of place with an impatient tug. When the hand on her breast surfaced to take his wrist, he clamped over her bra instead. The different stimulation made her get her shirt undone to the waist with one hand, and shrug it of on the side closest to his.

"Take it off," he murmured.

She didn't. Just to be difficult. Her fingers started to press into her hungry hole and she smacked an arm around his bicep for something to hold on to, digging her heels in as her ass came off the seat. The stretch felt almost foreign, and she more rocked her hips than pumped her fingers.

It was a bit of a show, after all.

"Lift my skirt up," she panted, straining her head back on the headrest.

She vaguely heard a phone buzzing, but it was the least important thing to her in the car. She watched him dart across the seat they shared to drag her panties roughly to her knees, a hand swerving up to tip back her skirt when she thrusted and it unsettled.

"Turn to me," he said. "Let me see."

Her groan drowned out the last half of his request. He was being especially good, keeping his hands to himself as he was. Until he'd pulled down one of the cups on her bra to get his insistent grip on her nipple, he was being a perfect voyeur.

She dropped her ass to the seat at the pinch of pain, bending forward with a sharp jerk. It only fed more of her breast into his hand, was he cupped with a piping hot palm.

"I want you to come saying my name," he told her purposefully. "How do I earn that?"

Her laugh was breathy. She spun on the seat and left one of her feet on the ground, hooking the other over the helpful shoulder her put there for her. Her hips were restless, rocking for no reason, hand rubbing a moderately slow circle on her clit.

"Well if you could read my mind," she said around her mirth. "You would know."

“You-“ He stopped, cracked a grin. “That’s cheeky of you, love.”

“I wanted to know if you could read my thoughts or not!” she exclaimed innocently. She pushed her fingers back inside herself and hooked them up, trying to find the button that made her go nuts. She might've been on an awkward angle, though. “The first thing I thought of wasn’t working, so I upped my game, and here we are.”

"Here we are," he repeated. He tugged on her nipple, then pulled the other cup down and gave it a firm squeeze. "What do you want me to do?"

She nearly, nearly told him. Nearly said: “ _I want you to say you need me. Tell me I'm the one_ ,” like an idiot.

Instead of opening that can of worms, she just smiled, and flicked her eyes at his crotch.

"Play," she said thickly.

His other hand undid the zip and tugged it down without any protest what-so-ever. He never once let go of the hold on her boob, and she admired the easy way he maneuvered the boxers out and over his cock without any hassle, closing his hand around it with a practiced tug.

"I want to taste you," he said lowly. He took his hand off her breast to take the edge of her skirt in his hand and push it back from obstructing his view. He stared at her gently fucking hips, and glossy lower lips, with the same kind of reverence he looked at art with. "What do you want me to do?"

Pretending to think about it, she shifted on the seat, edging herself backward and putting her free hand on her neglected boobs. It may have been real arousal, but the show she was putting on was also doing something to her.

Swallowing against the nervous doubt that lingered in her whenever she had to ask a man for anything, she fortified.

"I want you jerk yourself off." She arched her back with a pretty groan. "I know you want to fuck me. I know you want to get your cock wet with me. I know you want me to cream all over your balls, and drip onto the car. But you aren't allowed."

His released breath was shaky.

"I only need to press inside, just the tiniest bit," he said. "Let me give you something to grind on, sweetheart. Let me give you something to stretch on. It's been so long since you had a cock, love. So long."

"Just the tip?" she teased.

"The very barest," he agreed, his grin shark-like.

"Has that ever worked?"

"It does," he said. His hand trailed over the inside of her thigh, and she flexed her hips at him, showing off how wet she was, and how she could rub her insides. "I'd let you fuck me as you wished, you know. I'd behave. I'd never even move an inch, and you could take as much or as little as you liked."

"I could just fuck you?" she repeated. "Just a little bit?"

"However much you wanted."

"Mm, maybe you could rub the head of yourself on my clit for me, so I could keep watching you fuck your fist."

It sounded dangerous, even to her, to get him that close but not let him slip inside her. But letting him fuck her was not the game. It wasn't the point of her detour in stress and wedding prep. She had a point to make, and she was going to make it.

"If you want that, I'll oblige."

"But do you want to fill me up, Klaus?"

"Yes, love, I do."

"Do you think I'm wet enough to slide it in right now?" She pulled her fingers out, and spread her lips open, feeling the cool air make her hole clench. She did it again on purpose when she saw his face, lifting her hips higher to him. "Could you just stuff it in me? All the way in one push?"

She hadn't been kidding about the wetness - she was sure that a whole set of fingers could get inside her, and she wouldn't mind an inch.

"I think I could," he amended. He was still masturbating himself above her, staring at her slick, achy little hole. His hand on her calf was hot, leaving the burning feel of his hand branding on her skin. "I think you're open and soft and waiting. But you must tell me what you want first."

Her giggle was gleeful. He heard the danger.

"I want you to sit there and watch, and get yourself off in your hand," she said with a wickedly curled lip. "And after I've made myself come, I want you to shoot a whole load against my pussy. I want you to pour all of it out onto me, and rub into it with your cock, so I can sit in it the mess for the rest of the day."

He growled.

"I want to touch you."

"You're touching me," she said, tapping her shoe against his arm.

"But to make you feel good," he corrected, voice hard and starting to strain. "How can I make you feel good with my body, Caroline? I can give my tongue, love. I can make it nice and hard for you to touch your insides."

Her fingers pushed in as deep as she could go but it didn't feel like enough. She was edging the line between _tease_ and _frustrated,_ and the noises she was allowing out of her throat reflected that. She moved her hips around, trying to fill the empty void in her that demanded company.

"You can show me how hard you want to fuck me with your hand around yourself," she told him. "You can show me what you'd do if I let you put it in. If I said ' _oh Klaus, please fuck me, I'm so fucking horny for you, and I want you to fill me up so fucking bad. I want your cock to stretch me out, Klaus, I wanna come clamping around your fucking perfect fucking cock_ '."

It wasn't too far from the truth. A sneaky way to get around keeping those words in her head, she said them mockingly, while all the time praying he'd give one thrust and get that hot shaft up in her.

He bared his teeth in a growl and a grin.

"Say it again," he demanded.

"It's my show," she taunted. She licked her lips, and circled her clit in a tight, hard little circle at the ravenous look her gave her. "You said you'd behave."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to _watch_ ," she retorted with a tilted chin. "You want to play 'flirt with other girls', that's fine."

"You're still jealous of the attendant," he accused with a glitter of joy in his feral gaze. "You're delicious when you're in such a fucking temper, you know. Truly creative. Although I feel I've made it clear there was nothing happening there. Besides. You had no problem sending me off to New Orleans, where I had my very wicked way with many, many people."

"That was there, out of my sight," she snapped. "Not in front of me, and on purpose!"

"I drank well away from you to keep you hunger at bay."

"You flirted with her in front of me when you knew-!"

Words choked off at a groan as she hit her stride. She put both her ankles over his shoulders, and reached for his dick with eager grasping fingers, which he immediately supplied to her hand. Rubbing it against her clit, she arched up on it, while he moved closer to brace his hands on the door behind her head.

"You didn't mind the thought of me fucking another woman?" he goaded. "You didn't mind someone else's nails in my back, or having me spend my entire attention on making her come for me?"

His ass flexed in a surprised thrust when she reached down and took a hold of his balls. She couldn't get enough, trying to make him stutter, she jerked his cock the same way he had, and smoothed her hand over his belly and around to dig into his ass cheek and haul him a touch closer. He seemed smug, leaning above her, his eyes knowing as she desperately tried to make him come apart.

"I never asked you to abstain in New Orleans," she reminded him, hard. "I expected you to get your dick wet."

"You didn't ask me to abstain now," he taunted. "Do I still assume that I'm allowed to fuck as I please?"

Her grip faltered on him at the first insistent push of his hips, nearly sliding out of her hand as it naturally followed the line of her body to her opening. He prodded her hole, which made a slick noise against the promise of being spread.

Fingers encircling the base, she steered him up and rubbed her slick up and down, momentarily stunned enough to stop speaking.

"Oh _fuck_ ," she breathed. She was glad her eyelashes hadn't slammed shut - because she would've missed the look on his face. So soft, and full of heat and affection. She still jerked his cock, bouncing the tip into her clit, but she reached for his face with the free hand. "Oh my god, Klaus."

His body was clenched above hers in an effort to remain still. She felt the fine tremble in his stomach as he lowered over her, slotting between her legs when she used her grip to guide him down. Her arm was pinned between them, but she had some range to work with in her wrist.

Shyly, she pressed the head of him up through her sodden lips, and rocked her hips a tiny inch. The rest of her petals bloomed with wet noises, and she rocked with a small, hopeful keen in her throat. He at no stage actually penetrated her, but the feel of the girth ready to fill her up was making her a bit crazy.

"Tell me," he murmured. He pressed a soft kiss on her cheek when she tried to turn her eyes away from him. "Don't shy, sweetheart. Look at me, and say what you want."

"It's just been so long," she confessed. Her free arm was wrapped around him in a vice, trying to get the feel of more of his body against hers. She wished she didn't still have her bra flipped down and her skirt around her waist. She wished he was naked. "I forgot what it felt like just before - the fucking - antic-anticipation, oh my god, oh my god..."

When she butted him against her entrance, the unused muscles seemed to clamp around the needed intrusion before it had a chance to enter. She was panting so hard. Squirming her hips from side to side did nothing the mute the torturous ache.

"I need my hand back," she croaked. Her arm snaked out from between them and latched onto the back of his hair, desperately twining in his curls. "Kiss me, Klaus, please-"

His hot mouth slanted on hers, and she groaned loudly into the void of it. She was sloppy, distracted by the lower prodding as she ground instantly on the head of him. She flexed her hip and the tip slid an inch inside her.

"Fuck," she wept against his mouth.

"Whatever you want," he murmured. "Take what you like from me."

Her eyes were screwed shut as she surged up for another kiss, ankles locked behind his ass, lips being completely dominated by him. She tilted herself the tiniest amount and the flare of his head was enveloped by her warmth. Though he wasn't inside her clenching muscles, he'd began to ease back the fluttering outer wall.

Her brain was in a fog of thoughts. She really, really wanted to teach him a lesson about how jealous she could really be, and to make it known what he would, and wouldn't, get away with. But she also really badly wanted to feel him fit the deep inside of her, to remind him what he was missing out on when he headed back to New Orleans.

No, there would be time to fuck him right. Before he had to go. On a bed. Naked. With sunlight and room to move.

The idea to let him put it in her was becoming a needy, animal urge that her body was nearly unable to bare. She could get him in her, make herself come on his shaft, and then leave him blue balling?

That'd teach him for making eyes at some little human piece.

She pulled on her handful of hair and made him bare his throat with a growl, going where he was put. Her mouth latched onto him and threatened his vein with a sharp fang. She shifted herself on his cock and prodded him just a touch, gasping girlishly against his skin.

"Go on," he said hoarsely.

Slumping back against the car door, she shoved at his chest until he was suspended over her. Her hand encircled the tender strip under the head of him, and she rubbed it back on her clit. There was something forlorn in the throb her poor vagina gave her, like it had known he was there, and that she had resolved not to let him in.

"This weekend," she told him, breathing hard. "You're mine."

He shuddered. His pelvis gave a willful twitch, and he suppressed his groan for a sharp exhale through his nose. The muscle in his jaw went taut, and he lowered his brow to watch her with his monster eyes unblinking on her face.

She wanted him to lose control. But she wanted her to hold on to hers. It was a hard balance to strike. She pumped his shaft.

"I won't settle for anything less," she told him firmly. She tapped him on the sensitive bead of her hard little clit and slipped it down into her lips again. Her stupid body humped the head, trying to get it inside her. "I want you. I want you to look like you want me."

"I do," he swore.

"You're mine," she said.

A hot growl steamed between his teeth when he gave an aborted thrust. He barely stretched her hungry muscles, but he hadn't meant to move. She circled her hips around him, relishing the littlest bit of resistance.

Her hands scored up the sides of his torso to continue up his throat and in his hair. She rolled her body and made his head fall easily down to her chest, making him watch her reach between them and slip her fingers over on her clit.

Every arch of her hips had him so close to pushing inside. She dared stroke his pulsing shaft.

"You're mine," she reminded him.

As she guessed, he gave a meaningful throb and tried to rut against her hand. His arms were shaking to hold himself still, and he was growling softly in his chest.

"If that's what you want," he said roughly. His head was damp with sweat, nailed to her shoulder. "Yes."

"Mine," she said. In response to his jerky thrust, she steered to down into her hole. He pushed through in a split second penetration, and shot back, hissing.

"Don't fucking test me," he snapped. He was glowering, pink in the face, body locked tight. "If you want me to fuck you just bloody say so."

She let go of him.

"I said come," she reminded him with an arched brow. "On me, and let me sit in it. If you want to play the jealousy game, you can play. But you know what that's not gonna get you? Laid."

It was such a good call. She was so fucking close. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, the side of her throat, and her boob, his hand wrapping around his thick, full cock.

"I'll get you back," he promised her.

"I'll look forward to it," she purred.

There was a beat, and she blinked.

Klaus had snapped his fingers in front of her face, safely on his side of the car, eyebrows pitched in the middle in askance.

"Caroline?" he said, apparently not for the first time.

Her knees were... shut.

The clothes were... on.

There was no... sexiness...

But her underwear was one hundred and fifty per cent soaked. She blinked sluggishly, and looked at her hands, which had balled into tight fists. Little half moons of blood stared up at her when her fingers unfurled.

"You can't read minds," she said breathily.

"No, but I'd give one of my brothers to the devil himself to see what just went on behind your eyes," he said, strained. He shifted on the seat, both hands rubbing his knees. "Are you with me?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." She drifted, staring at nothing, trying to concentrate. How long had she been staring at his head and thinking about that little fantasy? Had she spoken? Had she come? "I just... I think I'm a little worked up about... the thing on the plane."

"The girl?" He let out an exasperated puff. "Caroline, nothing happened. I was hungry, and I indulged. If you need for me not to feed from the vein at all this weekend, do say so now. There's no blood at my place."

Her lips felt numb, so she reached up and touched them with the tips of her fingers. Feeling a little shy, she managed to look at him, then beyond him at the window. They weren't far out of town. She'd been AWOL in her head for a while.

She had the very vaguest inkling that she had decided to stare at the side of his head and see if she could make him read her mind... and the rest was not a thing that happened. But without asking Klaus, she'd never know.

"You can feed however you want," she said. Her gaze turned down to her knees. "I don't want to be a party pooper, but don't kill anyone."

"I won't," he grumped. "I wasn't going to. I know you don't like it."

Her head was nodding.

"Thanks,"she said.

"How long has it been since you consumed blood?" he prompted. "I've seen other vampires hallucinate like that, but usually in the early stages of desiccation."

"I have heaps of bloodbags at my house," she said lightly. She rubbed her head, and looked out her window.

"When was the last time you had one?" he repeated sternly.

"Like, yesterday. Or maybe... What's today? Friday? So I had a bag on-...Wednesday? No, wait -" Thinking back, the last time she had sucked on a bloodbag, she'd been with Elena. Elena had last seen her on Friday, which made it a _whole week_ that Caroline hadn't eaten. "Oh, crap. It may be... slightly longer than... I realized."

"How long?" he prompted. He was already sending a mass text about stocking his basement fridge. At her lack of answer, he glowered. "Don't say more than four days."

She held up her thumb and forefinger.

"An itty bitty bit longer."

" _Caroline_." His mouth firmed into a straight line. "How much longer?"

"It's not that bad."

"That's not an answer to the question I asked. When was the last time you ate something?"

She studied her nails.

"Friday."

"A week? Caroline. You cannot push yourself like that, you're only a baby."

"I'm not-!" Her voice pitched super weirdly in the middle. "A baby!"

"You're a baby vampire, and you need to treat yourself better than you are. Especially if you think that you're going to avoid consuming from humans." There was no arguing with that tone. "Otherwise you'll lose your bloody mind, love, and end up hurting someone. You keep telling me you don't want to do that."

"I don't," she said agreeably. Rubbing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. "Sorry. I know. I've just been - you know. I'm not doing it on purpose. I don't want to be like this. I just can't think when I'm stressed, and it's been going on for so long. I'm sorry, Klaus. I'm not gonna do this to you all weekend, okay?"

After a full five seconds of his unimpressed scowl, he gave under her wide-eyed guiltiness. His shoulders deflated and he pursed his lips, reaching over to take her wrist in his hand. He lapped neatly at the blood on her palms, sealing them with a kiss.

"It's going to be alright," he swore. "You're with me. I will never stand idle to people that threaten you in any capacity. Do they really make you so sick with nerves you don't think of blood?"

"Yeah." Her shoulder jerked up in a shrug. "But there's other stuff too. This is just the icing on a terrifically shitty cake. It will get better - I'll get better. I just have to see through the weekend."

She shifted her grip to wrap her hands over his. She bought one over to lay on her lap, smoothing over his knuckles and the edges of his fingers. For a while, she just followed the grooves and peaks of his veins and bones, making herself mindless and busy.

"Tell me something," he said slowly, an edge of teasing to his voice. He waited until she looked up at him. "What exactly were you hallucinating?"

"It was just general visions," she said mildly.

His grin was raunchy.

"The kind that made you soak the fabric of your panties?"

A very innocent pout pursed on her mouth.

"Are you making fun of me because you think my brain peaced out into a kinky hybrid sex void?"

"Was it a kinky hybrid sex void?"

She sniffed self importantly.

"No."

“You are a little flushed,” he cooed. "And you can't quite look me in the eye."

“It was raunchy,” she said. "Especially the lipstick, thing."

"What lipstick thing?"

"The thing with the lipstick. And then in the back of this car."

"Oh? Tell me. What did we get up to?"

"Who said you were there?" 

"My God, you're a special kind of cruel," he chuckled. "I'll get it out of you before the weekend is through."

 _I liked you better when you listened to instructions,_ floated into her mind. She smothered a giggle in her hand, and returned to petting his knuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews feed the author


	4. Meet the Fam

Caroline dug out her phone when it buzzed with a phone number she didn’t recognize.

Klaus grumbled about not forgetting to get her _kinky Hybrid sex fantasy_ out of her later.

She ignored him, just to prevent a back and forth that would undoubtedly happen.

“Hello Caroline speaking?”

“Hi, Caroline, it’s Aunt Linda, how are you?”

She rolled her eyes hard.

“Hi Aunt Linda, I’m well,” She looked at Klaus, mouthed “ _Bethany’s mom,_ ” and continued: “How are you?”

“I’m really well, thank you. You aren’t at home?”

“No, I’m out with my boyfriend,” she said, and it rolled maybe too naturally off her tongue. “We’re just coming in from New Orleans.”

“Oh are you just?” the Aunt said sweetly. “How nice. It’s cutting it a little close, isn’t it?”

“Well the wedding is on Sunday, so not really,” Caroline said coolly.

“Well I think you’ll find it is, because we’re outside your house waiting for you,” she said.

Caroline frowned.

“Why are you at my house?”

“Because this is where we’re keeping the bridal things,” she said. “And the bridesmaids are getting ready here, come Sunday.”

“That’s the first I’m hearing about it.”

“No it isn’t,” she said surely. “Bethy told you.”

“No she didn’t,” Caroline pointed out. “And she didn’t _ask_ me, either.”

“Oh Caroline, don’t start,” scolded the woman. “You live here alone, why couldn’t we use it?”

Klaus held out his hand, flexing his fingers for the phone. He looked angry, but not like he might take a chunk out of her aunt, so Caroline said:

“Here, my boyfriend wants to talk to you,” and passed him the phone before aunt Linda could make a rebuttal.

“Dear Aunt Linda,” he said cordially. “How lovely to finally put a voice to the name.”

Caroline could hear the pause of her Aunt processing his accent, and the decidedly displeased tone he was using on her. She would know, because she’d basically invented the whole ‘saying the opposite of what your voice is implying’ trope.

“Hello there,” Aunt Linda said. “I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know your name.”

“You may call me Klaus,” he told her firmly. “Now, did I just overhear you discussing using Caroline’s house because she had the room?”

“My daughter called her over a week ago to discuss-“

“She did not,” Caroline said, loud enough to cut her Aunt off. “And the answer is no.”

“May I offer a solution?” he suggested. “You can bring your bridesmaid things to my estate. I’d be happy to host for your bridal party and Caroline to get ready for the big day.”

“Your _estate_?” Aunt Linda repeated politely, and Caroline couldn’t help the absolutely devious smile that broke on her face, aimed at the side of Klaus’ head. Under the sunbeam of her smile, he gave her a mad grin in return.

“Yes, my estate. I’ll send along the address. Is that all?”

A pause. Some whispering.

“That’ll do,” she said. “If Caroline can’t make room for us in her empty house, then we will have to find another place, on my daughter’s most important day.”

“That’s not our problem,” he said simply. “We’ll be home in twenty minutes. I expect I’ll meet you there. Ta ta.”

And he hung up the phone.

Caroline nearly vibrated out of her seat with laughter, clamping both hands over her mouth to try and stem the flow of it. But it didn’t work; her amplified joy was extraordinarily loud in her chest. She turned to Klaus who was still grinning, and took her phone from him.

“I can just see her face!” she said gleefully. “Oh my god, am I glad I know you right now! She’s _annihilated_ and she doesn’t even know it yet.”

“Fancy demanding to use your house because you’re the only one that lives there,” he said mildly. “Does their pettiness know no bounds?”

“No, really, it doesn’t. Oh my god, they’re gonna flip when they see your house!” She clapped her hands, and actually bounced in her seat, doing a victory wiggle.

“You’re so easily pleased,” he mused.

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “And all I needed was you. Who knew?”

She took her phone from his lax hand, flicking a text to Bonnie about WIN WIN WINNNNNNNING. She didn’t even process what she’d said, only barely registering that he was staring at her; she was just so happy.

“Ugh!” she put her hand over her heart, beaming at the roof. “Oh my god, I feel so much better about this now. I know – I just know – if you hadn’t of been here, they would’ve taken over my house, and they would’ve wanted to do some stupid, petty little - ugh! I’m so glad you’re here.”

“It’s no problem,” he said softly, and made her look at him.

He was wide eyed, a little dazed. He was watching her with his mouth parted, lashes fluttering like he was trying not to blink, like he might miss something if he did.

She breathed out a happy sigh.

“Thanks,” she said. “I know I said it before. But thank you for saying yes. You don’t know how – gross, thinking about this wedding made me. I didn’t want to do it. But I feel better now that you’re here. So… Thanks for handling it so far.”

“You’re welcome,” he told her, and it felt weighty, like it was more than just a placation. He rubbed his lips together, and shifted in his seat. “Will… Caroline, do you think they’ll want to come and go as they please from my place?”

“Once they see it? Maybe. Probably. There’s a chance they’ll be really nice to you, to see if you can be baited to their side, but like… they’ll probably be really nice to you because you’re rich, and that means something to them,” she said thoughtfully. “When I was dating Tyler, they asked me at every family event how much he was worth. Sometimes it was all anyone ever talked to me about.”

“You don’t know how much I’m worth,” he pointed out.

“No, that’s why I told them you’re old money.” She fiddled with her skirt, then checked her phone, though no notifications had come through. “They kept asking. That’s why I made something up.”

“I see,” he said. He wet his lips. “You haven’t seen my bedroom, at the mansion. It’s very large.”

“Huh?” she said, blinking at him. What a flip! Where was his head even at? “Yeah? I imagine it would be, because you're a subscriber to the dramatics.”

“And of luxury, which does of course mean I tend to buy beds larger than I strictly need."

"For all the orgies you get up to?" she joked.

"Orgies don't go to my bed, love. Orgies have their own room. But I digress - this house, and my room, has got a very large bed,” he continued. “Big enough for two people to lay… quite comfortably… and not even have to brush against each other in the dark.”

“Yeah?” she said, and blinked at him. She caught his train of thought, and decided to risk it. “You think we should stay at your place, together, in your room?”

“If you think they’ll be coming and going, I’d rather have you keep your pretenses,” he said, barely passing for solemn, when the look in his eyes was so mischievous. He was fucking delicious. She was so gone on him. “I’m only thinking about you. It’s only a few nights. You know you’re safe with me.”

She did. Kind of. And thinking about being in a bed with Klaus made her heart go all… wobbly. Like her belly just – started swirling around. And she thought her mouth might be a touch too dry to swallow, but when she licked her lower lip, it was wet.

“For pretenses,” she said slowly. “Yeah, I mean, obviously, we can share a bed. We’re adults, and we’re… friends.”

“Are we?”

“Do you not think we’re friends?”

“I don’t think we’re enemies, and we are just…” His eyes flicked to her crotch. She squeezed her legs together, and gripped the door handle. “A _little_ more, than mere acquaintances…”

“So friends?” she said, voice a bare whisper. Was he like, super close to her face, all of a sudden? No, he couldn’t be. Because her seat belt was attempting to strangle her, so _she_ had moved toward _him_. How interesting. “We can be friends.”

“I can be friends with you,” he murmured, and cupped her face, his fingertips skating over her brow and cheek, around to touch the jut of her chin.

“I mean, I’d like that,” she said on a breath, and looked at his mouth. "I want that if you do."

"I'd like to be your friend," he told her softly. His lips were so plush, and full of new, fresh blood. Her fangs ached in her face. "I'd like for you to call me, and keep me in the loop of what is important to you. Like friends do."

"You can call me too, you know," she said. "You can talk to me about all things Klaus. I won't mind."

"I think you'd mind the content more often than not." He rubbed his lips together. She managed, somehow, to make her eyes look at his. He was still staring at her mouth. "I thought about it."

"Calling me?"

His nod was absent, slow. As though he'd heard the question from far away, or moved through molasses.

"I never have anything good to talk about," he confessed. "I didn't want to burden you. I didn't always want to be a force of darkness. I wanted to inspire you, and support you, and hear you laugh. Nothing I have is anything you deserve."

His thumb pulled the tender skin of her lip, and parted it for her. He seemed enraptured by her eager breath, and his eyes refocused on hers.

"Doesn't matter. I want you," she said. Meant to say: _I want you to call me when you have something to talk about._ "I mean - I mean about - I want you to - I want -"

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and made her throat stop producing words.

"I want you," he said succinctly. "Very badly."

_God help me, I’m a little bit in love with him._

The last time she’d been that close, she’d been kissing him, swollen and wet with saliva. The last time she’d been that close to his pouting mouth, he had been moments away from spending himself deep in her body, while she shook with her fourth orgasm and locked her thighs around his waist to try and get him in deeper still.

It was at that exact moment his phone rang, and it was loud enough that she jolted and flinched away, turning her hot face to the window. Oh boy. She pressed her cheek to the cool glass in an effort to cool down, while Klaus got his phone to his ear.

“What?” he demanded down the line.

“Why have you not returned my calls?” Elijah said, clipped.

“I was on the jet.”

“Yes, I know. I also know you landed long enough ago that you should’ve checked your phone and called me back. Why are you going to Mystic Falls?”

“Because,” he said darkly. “I am. With a friend. Can I not tend my own business without suspicion?”

“No,” Elijah said dryly. “You don’t have friends. What plot are you up to now, Niklaus?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Caroline said sharply, turning toward the phone. “Easy on the full naming. He’s not up to anything; he’s with me.”

There was a pause. When Elijah next spoke, all the accusation in his tone was gone, and he dialed his volume down to something more reasonable.

“Ah,” he said. “Hello Caroline. I trust my brother is in good hands?”

“Well I’m not strangling him yet,” she teased.

Elijah chuckled, while Klaus rolled his eyes.

“Are you quite satisfied?” he drawled.

“I am,” Elijah said simply. “How long will you be gone?”

“The wedding is on Sunday,” Caroline told him. “So he’ll be back probably Monday sometime? Provided I don’t fall off my diet wagon and eat someone?”

“You won’t eat anyone,” Klaus murmured. “You’ll be alright.”

There was another, lengthier pause on Elijah’s end.

“Of course,” he said, sounding a little odd. “Mystic Falls. That’s a nice full circle.”

“What?” Caroline said.

Klaus cleared his throat.

“Not _our_ wedding, you bloody idiot,” he muttered. “A cousin of Caroline’s. I’m her date.”

Caroline may have been imagining things, and she would never actually point it out to him, but there appeared to be a blush blooming in the Hybrid’s cheeks. She was so consumed by the flare of it, she nearly missed what Elijah was saying.

“I was only disappointed I wasn’t invited,” Elijah said easily. “I should think if you were to elope, I would at the very least be allowed to bear witness.”

“I’m going now,” Klaus said dryly.

“Have fun,” Elijah said, and sounding like he was teasing. “Be good. Look after her.”

“I don’t need him to look after me,” Caroline retorted, then considered under Klaus’ arched brow. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m a good vampire on a good diet! I’ve been doing okay!”

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Elijah soothed. “Farewell.”

Klaus hung up the phone.

“Why does everyone think we’re getting married?” she wondered, probably too loudly.

Klaus grinned.

When they arrived a few minutes later, it was to the two carloads of stuff and things by Caroline’s wayward family, who were all assembled with their arms crossed, looking up at the grand Mikealson mansion.

“Showtime,” Caroline muttered.

Klaus gave her a dashing smile as they pulled into park, and got out of the car to get her door, giving her his hand like a real, regal gentleman. Joke was on him – she didn’t let go of his hand, lacing their fingers together into a singular fist.

But he didn’t seem to mind, so much, and shut the door for her.

“Finally!” called one of her cousins. Maggie. Ugh.

Klaus’ hand squeezed her hand and she felt her tension melt away. He was there; he was perfect. They couldn’t fault her, not when Klaus was around.

“Hey Maggie,” she said, and managed to look at her short cousin. She was standing the closest, just before Linda and Bethany. “Hello guys. This is Klaus – Klaus, these are my cousins Bethany and Maggie, and my Aunt Linda.”

“So we finally meet,” he said, smiling at them all. “I trust your trip was kind?”

“We were in first class,” Bethany said primly. “It was exquisite. But I don’t want to rub it in - you’ve never been in first class, have you Caroline?”

“Hard to be in first class when you’ve never flown anywhere,” Maggie said pointedly.

“Caroline just came back from New Orleans,” Linda pointed out.

“But not in first class,” Bethany confirmed.

“Not in first class,” Caroline agreed mildly.

“No,” Klaus drawled. “My jet doesn’t have a rating system comparable to common airlines.”

“ _Your_ …?” aunt Linda said, wheezy. She clapped a hand to her chest and tried again. “Your jet?”

“Yes, my jet,” he said.

“What’s the point of having a jet,” Bethany said shortly. “If it’s going to be late?”

“We don’t run to your timetable,” Klaus told her, appearing very bored by her tone. “And if you must know, the only delay we suffered was because we had to get the sheets changed on the bed.”

“The bed in the jet,” Caroline said with a bright smile. “And only because you spilled the pre-flight champagne,” she went on teasingly, and put her cheek on his shoulder to ham it up a little more.

“Only because you were being so delicious with the pre-flight strawberries.” He smirked down at her, and she thought he might be a little too good at this game. Their hands were so comfortably fit together, it was a wonder they had never held hands like that before.

“You’re like a pair of children,” Aunt Linda said. “How long did you say you’ve been…together?”

“Two years,” Caroline mentioned, still gazing at Klaus. He smelled so good. Like, really, maybe too good. He was earthy and sweet; metallic and cotton. She wanted to suck on his earlobe.

Oh boy.

“I would’ve thought the honeymoon phase would’ve been well and truly done with by now,” Linda said with a touch of coolness to her tone.

“This is the version of done with,” Klaus assured her.

“Well, while this has been a charming display,” Bethany sniffed. “I have literally so many other things I would rather do. You can come and help us get the boxes to unload. Anything with a yellow sticker is fragile.”

“Can I just bet that there’s a yellow sticker on every box?” Caroline said sweetly.

Bethany ignored her.

“Oh, you expect to come to my property and spit orders at me like I’ll follow them?” Klaus said, forcing his tone a little lighter. “How dreadfully presumptuous of you.”

Bethany’s cheeks went red, and she turned to her mother.

“Mommy he’s being rude.“

“You are being terribly rude,” Aunt Linda pointed out.

“If she’s got a problem, she can load her things somewhere else,” Caroline said, voice hardened, head lifting from Klaus’ shoulder. “It’s not a problem for us not to share the estate.”

“So you have your empty house,” Maggie whined. “And this big house, and you can’t even share one of them?”

“Nor should she have to,” Klaus insisted. “You’ve done nothing but demand acquiesce since you touched down. So there are your options: hold your demands, or bugger off. Rather simple.”

Bethany lifted her chin at him.

“This wedding is the most important day of my life-“ she began.

“But not everyone else's,” Caroline muttered, which got an awful snicker out of Klaus.

There was a silence, when Bethany finally looked Caroline in the eye, her classically pretty face warped with the ugliness of her rage. She gave Caroline’s neat shirt, jeans and boots a long once over, and then looked back at Klaus with her mouth pinched.

“We need somewhere to put the things and for the girls to get ready for the big day. There isn’t enough time to organize somewhere else,” Aunt Linda said, stepping alongside her daughter. She gave Klaus a winning smile. “It’s so kind of you to let us use this space.”

“If it were up to me, you would go without,” he informed her with a shrug. “I’m only assisting because Caroline asked me to.”

“Of course,” Aunt Linda said. “The girls don’t tend to get along-“

“I wonder why,” he drawled.

“But still,” Aunt Linda pressed. “They’re family. And so soon after my sister’s tragic passing - we’re all the family she has left.”

Caroline felt Klaus’ arm going rock solid beneath her hands. She turned to him, ready to say something to cool his temper, but the look on his face wasn’t just some version of bothered or annoyed – he had gone white in his rage, eyes manically wide. He looked insane, the version of himself she had thought he was before he’d ever shown her a kindness.

“Klaus,” she said patiently, and squeezed his arm.

It took him a few seconds to find his words.

“I have people,” he said slowly. “For getting your things. Shall I take you on a tour of my mansion while they unpack?”

“I’d like that,” Maggie said, already striding toward the front door. She skipped up the stairs and tried the handle only to find it locked, turning around with a scrunched face. “It’s locked.”

“To keep out the riff raff,” Klaus informed her with a pointed look at her heels. “Do take off your shoes before you come in on my floors.”

Aunt Linda took Bethany by the hand and urged her toward the front door – the daughter shrugged the touch away violently, scowling at her mother.

Under her breath, not meant for vampire ears, she said:

“He’s fake.”

“Of course he is. He speaks too well,” Aunt Linda assured her.

“It’s an act,” Bethany said flatly. “It’s not real. No one owns a jet and lives between New Orleans and the armpit of civilization. And no one with that kind of money wants the dumb ugly _freak_ they call my cousin.”

Klaus growled deep in his chest. Caroline pulled on his arm to turn him to her, cupping his face to hide the sprout of fangs blooming beyond his upper lip, and the bright gold swirling his iris.

Aunt Linda looked around as if to spy a dog, but made a disgusted noise when she saw them gazing at each other, getting to the top stair with a huff of exertion.

“Breathe,” Caroline said softly, as she filled her hand with his prickly cheek and stroked her thumb over the proud bone of it. Her attention flitted between his mouth and the black and gold of his eye, heart clenching to know she had put him in the position he was in. “Just breathe.”

He bared his teeth at her.

“Later,” she promised him. “You can be mad later. I need you here, now. And preferably not mauling my aunt, or _Bethany_.”

“ _Bethany_ ,” he repeated. He blinked once, then shut his eyes tight, his hand going to her hip to bring her in close. He dropped his head to her shoulder, and stole a lingering kiss from the hinge of her jaw, breathing out hard. Caroline pretended to be unaffected, but her heart still skipped a beat. “Just a little mauling?”

“No,” Caroline said with a smile. Her hand slid to embrace the back of his hot neck, and she let his arm go to scoop under his bicep and wrap him up in a hug. “No mauling.”

“No fun,” he grunted, and returned the favor, his tight body going a little more at ease under her kind attention.

On the veranda, certainly out of reach to human ears, Aunt Linda whisper demanded:

“You can’t just go storming off into people’s homes, Margret!”

“What?” Maggie muttered. “I wanted to snoop. I thought that was the point?”

“You need to be more subtle,” Bethany said coldly.

“I bet this place has a butt-tonne more surveillance than Aunt Liz’s place has,” Maggie said. “I was just getting a head start.”

“They might have a dog,” Aunt Linda said. “So there’s another problem to deal with.”

“I don’t care if we can’t get in here,” Bethany decided. “It’s Aunt Liz’s place we need to get into.”

Caroline sucked in a breath.

“You’re right darling, of course,” Aunt Linda soothed. “We’ll go tomorrow. We’ll make sure they’re busy. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s something to examine later,” Caroline whispered. Her fingers tangled in the curls at his nape. “Later. I’m gonna be mad. Not now. Later.”

“Sometime today, Caroline!” Aunt Linda called.

“If they don’t stop-“ Klaus warned.

“They never do,” she muttered, and let him out of her arms. He was deceptively human, but her hands went and framed his cheeks – _just in case_ , she told herself – and her fingers drew circles on his temples. He shuttered his eyes at her, half lidded and lazy, and gave her a small pout.

“I could kill them,” he murmured.

“So could I,” she reminded him, and let his cheeks go to take his arm. “But we’d both be disappointing my mom, and that’s not what I’m about.”

“No,” he exhaled. “We can’t have that.”

“The world still doesn't revolve around you,” Bethany said, tapping her shoe. "And yet we're running on your time, on _my_ weekend."

Klaus gave her the crook of his arm and she took it, smiling at the restraint he was showing. She could still feel the heat of his neck in the pads of her fingertips, and his smell was so thick in her nose she could nearly taste him. Not to mention the pleasant prickling of her neck, where he'd pressed a small kiss. She wanted to get her mouth on his bare skin – she wanted to trace the tattoo she knew he had with her tongue.

As they walked toward the front door, he eyed the carloads of boxes and bagged dresses (all with yellow stickers, score one to Caroline), spying the bridesmaids’ gowns amongst the lot, bringing up Caroline’s hand to kiss the back of it and hide a terrible smile.

“Don’t,” she scolded out the corner of her mouth.

“But they’re _hideous_ ,” he whispered.

“Don’t say anything,” she implored him beneath a snicker. “If they think I don’t like them I’ll end up in one.”

“I should bloody hope not,” he scoffed. He turned his smile back up to a solid seven and unlocked the front doors, swinging both open before taking her hand again. “This is one of my humble homes. Parlor to your right, study to the left.”

Both were filled with antiques and many leather bound books, high backed armchairs, crystal decanters, and gorgeous paintings. Caroline spied one of Klaus’ landscapes, very reminiscent of Monet’s Water Lilies, identifiable as the Hybrid’s because she knew from the one she’d discovered in the Hermitage that they had similarities. She hadn’t particularly liked paintings before she’d known Klaus; but she had gathered enough knowledge about them in his absence to throw down about techniques, paint types, and narratives.

“See that gorgeous one, with the flower, on the water?” she said, motioning to the art.

“I like that,” Maggie noted abruptly. “It’s the nicest one in there.”

“Klaus painted that,” Caroline bragged.

“Oh,” Aunt Linda said, strained.

“I never told you that,” Klaus accused lightly. “That it was one of mine.”

“You don’t need to,” Caroline said simply. “I know what your work looks like.”

“Do you?” he smiled, slow and wide. He stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

“Are you surprised?” she teased.

“I find I’m always surprised by you,” he informed her, and she squeezed his hand without quite knowing why.

“It’s a very nice picture,” Aunt Linda said, sounding just the barest hint forced.

“It’s nice to have hobbies,” Bethany said pointedly.

“My last sold piece made enough money to buy the car you drove in and cube it,” Klaus said broadly, fixing her with a dirty look. “With enough left over to take a trip to Venice.”

“Venice isn’t that great,” Bethany snapped. “I’ve been twice.”

“Yes, and I have a home there,” Klaus drawled, giving her a steady up and down. “I find the tourists don’t like the waterways after too long.”

“I liked the water just fine,” she retorted. “What I don’t like is cities that fall apart.”

“All cities will fall apart,” he said darkly. “That’s how time works.”

He moved them all down the hall without another word, and Caroline rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. How strange, that it was her calming him down, when it was her family that was trying to stir her up. She had thought he wouldn’t care, but he wasn’t pulling his punches.

But as a very quiet aside... She _loved_ being defended by him. 

“Bethany likes travelling,” she said sweetly. “I think you two have that in common.”

“I’ve been everywhere,” Bethany declared, her arms tight across her middle. She turned her eyes over the open space kitchen and lounge, and then looked at Klaus, unamused.

“I doubt it,” Klaus mentioned. “I’ve been travelling a lot longer than you have, and I can’t even say that.”

“I’ve been to everywhere worth going,” she bit out.

“Did you-?” Caroline said to break the argument before it happened, and blinked across at the Hybrid. “Klaus, has this been renovated, since the last time I was here?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” he cooed. “Forgive me, love. I redid parts of upstairs, too.”

“When do you have the time to do this?” she said, looking around the changed space.

“I had a vision, and I have good people on my payroll,” he said softly. “Do you like it?”

“It’s _gorgeous,_ ” she said, mouth open.

The kitchen was cast in a deep grey stone, a huge slab of it for the counter, flecked with tiny grains of gleaming silver fragments. Everything else was chrome, glowing without a single streak, which tickled Caroline’s clean-freak brain to no end. She looked at the lounge; the sunken area bracketed all the way around with huge cushy couches - Klaus reached over and flicked a light, which lit LED lights behind the head rests, glowing a soft blue color to add to the cool, clean theme. There was a projector hanging innocently from the roof, aimed at a bare wall.

“We’re watching so many movies,” she told him.

“When we get a minute to ourselves later, we will,” he promised her. He lead them through the space and flicked a switch that made the blinds swing quietly aside to show them to the vast backyard – grey stones framed a black tiled pool and spa. “I’m going to have someone redo the garden, I think. I want more hedging behind the flowerbeds.”

“Yeah,” Caroline said, like her opinion actually mattered to him. “Hide the fencing.”

“Precisely,” he said. “Does anyone want anything to drink?”

“No thanks,” Maggie said.

“No thank you,” Aunt Linda said.

“I want to see where you plan to put my wedding dress,” Bethany said.

“If you have an issue with where your dress goes in my house, you can find somewhere else to put it.”

“I didn’t say I had an issue with the _house_ ,” she snapped. “I want to know where it is, so I can check on it later.”

“And why would you need to check on it later?”

“So I know Caroline isn’t doing something to it.”

Caroline rolled her eyes.

“I literally have so many other things I would rather do, than wreck your wedding dress.”

“You wouldn’t wreck it,” Bethany accused. “You’d dart the waist or something, so I don’t fit into it.”

“If that’s what you’re worried about, when organizing a wedding, I should think you wouldn’t want to leave it here at all,” Klaus said abruptly. “What idiocy.”

“I _beg your pardon_?” Aunt Linda said shrilly.

“Beg,” Klaus said flatly.

“Klaus,” Caroline said, pulling a little on his hand.

“If she truly thinks you’ll do something to her things, why would she demand you look after them? Actually - let's save us all the trouble of a few more lies, hm?“ He grabbed the back of Bethany’s head, pulling her closer to him with a shriek of indignation.

"LET GO OF ME!"

“Shush!” Caroline said, compelling both her Aunt and her other cousin, who had squawked like chickens in an attempt to have him release the stunned blonde. "Don't move!"

Both of them fell into line, despite the fact that Bethany was smacking at Klaus' hand and trying to claw at his face. He barred his fangs and let his eyes bleed into the black and gold of his true nature, making Bethany wail and fall on suddenly weak knees.

"MONSTER! MONSTER!"

"Klaus," Caroline scolded half-heartedly. "Be gentle."

"I'm being gentle," he informed her, never bothering to take his terrifying gaze from Bethany's eyes. He yanked her hair back and made her yelp. "By my standards, I'm being positively _delicate_."

"Monster!" Bethany was saying on repeat, shock flooding her nose and eyes. "Monster! Monster!"

"Could you be a little more delicate?" Caroline said flatly. "Ugh, she's never going to believe that nothing happened if she ruins her makeup!"

"Stop it," Klaus demanded, and the bride-to-be stopped crying. "Now. Why would you insist on putting your things at Caroline’s house if you were so certain something bad would happen?”

“I needed an excuse to get into her house,” Bethany said evenly. She dabbed under her nose and scrunched her face at the streak of sticky snot that dragged on her hand.

"How alarming," Klaus drawled. He gave her head an unkind shake. It was so hard even Caroline's brain shook in sympathy.

"Klaus!" she said, and shoved his hand from Bethany's head. "No brain damage!"

"Oh, she has it coming," he said lowly. "Why did you need an excuse to get inside Caroline's house?"

“I wanted to keep her awake at weird hours, and go through her things, and make her let me use her mom’s room.”

Caroline turned slowly, studying the absent expression of the deeply compelled.

“Why?” she said slowly. She had to ask again, touching the edges of her own manipulation, when Bethany didn't answer.

“So I could find her will,” was the clear answer.

“Why?” Klaus prompted.

“Because we didn’t get anything when Aunt Liz died,” she said flatly. “And I think we did get something left to us, and Caroline hid it to keep it because she's a stupid selfish bitch. So we’re breaking in to double check.”

“Are you really so petty?” Klaus snapped.

“I’m not petty, she is,” Bethany accused.

“Why did she want me awake at weird hours?” Caroline said thoughtfully, turning her back to her cousin. She couldn't look at her - her teeth were aching and she was _hungry_. She looked at Klaus from under her lashes. “Why did she want to go through my stuff?”

Klaus repeated the questions.

“I didn’t want her to look good at my wedding,” Bethany admitted. “And I wanted to see if she’s actually dating you, because I don’t think she is. She is exactly the kind of person who would hire some little fuckboy to pretend to date her. No one wants to date her. She’s a freak.”

“Do I look like a hired fuckboy to you?" he said dangerously, snatching under her arm to bringing her close to his face. Even compelled, the woman whimpered under his black-eyed glare.

“You don’t look hired."

Caroline couldn’t help but snort.

“I think he looks nice,” she said. She leaned her cheek to his shoulder again, this time wrapping her free hand around his wrist to hold him close with both of hers. Her hand went to rub her poor gums over her teeth. “I told you this was real.”

“I can see that,” he murmured.

“I didn’t think you would compel anyone so early,” she complained. “You haven’t even known them that long.”

“I can’t stand the way she’s talking around you,” he admitted. “She didn’t even say hello to you.”

“That’s because she hates me, and pretending I don’t exist when I’m winning is her only way of coping,” she said. She rubbed her upper lip to try and soothe her pinching gums. Under his scrutiny, she relocated her hand on his waist as a sufficient distraction. "It's actually her best behavior."

“She hates you."

"Duh."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Life? Her mom encourages it. It's like... It's like it was a normal rivalry and then it just... got bad. I don't know why she hates me. Don't ask her. I don't want to know."

He hummed in thought, and uncurled his fingers from Bethany's arm, replacing a much kinder hand on Caroline's shoulder. He smoothed over her hair, wrapping her locks around his hand to bare the side of her throat to his eyes.

"Why would you even attend her wedding?” he exhaled. “Why would she even invite you, if she treats you so brutally?”

Caroline gave him a sad smile, leaning back to meet his gaze.

“You know why. Family.” She shrugged. “She wants to show off. I want to prove I’m handling things.”

He sighed, and looked back at Bethany.

"I could just make it so that she is kind to you," he mentioned.

"Yeah, right, and then the whole point of me getting a one up on her is moot?" She shook her head, reaching up to detangle her hair from where he'd wound it into a spiral. "I think it's a little too late for that kind of meddling. The damage is done. She's the head of the problem, but she isn't the whole of it."

“I could probably buy half your family," he grumbled. "They'd surely play nice for a few crisp cheques."

"We are not about rewarding poor behavior," she said primly. "We're better than that."

"You are," he acknowledged, then flicked his eyes at Bethany. "Forget the scary parts of this interlude. Go wipe your face. Return here. And be quiet."

Caroline gave her Aunt and other cousin the same instructions. It seemed best to follow Klaus' lead on the compelling business - it wasn't how she would've handled it, but surely he had enough time up his sleeve to know what he was doing.

“You okay?” she prompted.

He pursed his lips as her cousins and Aunt came out of the bathroom, whispering about how expensive the towels felt. Maggie mentioned trying to get them to stay there so they could steal a few. 

“Shall I show you upstairs?” he inquired, blatantly ignoring Caroline’s question. He just tightened his hand around hers, and she felt the muscles in his forearm wiggle under her hand.


	5. Dance Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this is a big chapter. Lol

** Friday, Dance Class. **

"The plan," she said, breath casting a momentary fog against the window. "Is: we introduce you to the rest of the family, learn the dance, get out."

"I think we can handle it, between us."

Her shoe tap-tap-tapped against the floor, and the idea to plead off sick crossed her mind. There was no conceivable way that she would be calm and cool as she saw the studio come into view, a row of pretensious cars filling all the available spaces.

"Then we're going home," she said, just to hear it. "I'm going to shower and get into my pajamas. I hope you know there's a 'no bra after six p.m' rule."

"Well, there go my plans for the evening." His dry delivery made her mouth twitch like she wanted to smile, but actually committing to it was impossible. As if he sensed he was only moments from distracting her, he went on, still deadpan: "What shall I do with all my pretty bras now, Caroline?"

At any other point in that car ride, she would've given him the smile she felt he was due - but just as his words began to fill the space of her ear, she saw her cousin Mark, flanked by his girlfriend Stacey, and Joan, Leon, and Maggie all standing at the door, having a final cigarette before they went in.

Caroline knew intellectually that she no longer retained the ability to be nervous enough to throw up, but her stomach didn't seem to know that, giving an awful flip. Anxiety rocketed up in her solar plexus, followed by a new wave of sweat on her hands.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry," she said in a rush, winding down the modesty panel between them and the driver. "Don't drop us off here. Drop us at the back of the building. Please."

Grateful the well-dressed lackey didn't protest, he continued to roll on by the entrance without having slowed to look suspicious.

Sucking in a shaky lungful of air, Caroline sat back in her seat, eyes glued to the glass. She recognized a few of the cars. LEW15 was her uncle Lewis, and beside him was the suped up Humvee with the gleaming chrome rims that belonged to Clark's sister. (Caroline couldn't remember her name. No one had properly introduced her the last time they had met. She had been equally as boring as Clark, which was the most interesting thing about her.)

"We're gonna get on that big, comfy couch," she went on, now completely for her own purposes. She wiped her palms against her skirt, tapping the shoe on the middle console. "There's gonna be wine - no wait. I need more than wine. I want bourbon. I want a fancy glass of bourbon, and your projector, and your couch. If you get me drunk enough we can go skinny dipping in the pool."

"Don't issue me such a delightful challenge when you know I'll engage," he said.

"Then let's skip this horror show and go home." She chewed on her lip, tasting her quick swipe of gloss. She wasn't joking.

"We aren't running." There was a certain finality she didn't like, there. "We're gods to these plebeians. If we wished, they'd be smeared into little bits and paces on the floor."

Her teeth hurt. Hunger burned up the inside of her throat. In the barest form of the reflection on her window, she saw him watching her like a hawk, his body locked in place. His eyes, the most gorgeous shade of blue, caught hers.

"What if I promise I'll get naked if we go back to your place right now?" It was a half-joke, half-test; if he made one teeny comment pertaining to getting her naked, she'd agree, and tell the driver to get them on the way.

Except he apparently saw it coming, because he didn't take the bait.

"I hate to see you so nervous, sweetheart." Her heart prickled in her chest at the tender warmth in his voice; the genuine care threaded into his words. "You've never shied from a little verbal combat before, and we aren't going to start now."

Defeat clouded her head in a dense wall. The weight of it poured down on her enough that her shoulders rolled forward, and she suddenly recalled the last time she'd seen the family en masse before her mom's funeral.

Bethany's thirteenth birthday.

Caroline was just bordering a little too old for dressups, and considered it a last hurrah when the invitation came, specifically instructing both herself and her mother to come as fairies to match the theme.

As an over-achiever, Caroline had taken the three month lead-up to craft a great deal of her costume. Two full tilt teenage 'YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE, MOM' meltdowns had been directly influenced when stores weren't carrying the right kind of glue, or fabric. She had made her mom take her to get her hair done in bouncy ringlet curls: a not inexpensive tiara had been pinned to her head.

They had gone interstate to some hotel with a huge hall, rented icee machines and fairy floss vendors. Liquid chocolate poured from borrowed fountains, a spread of artfully cut fruits arranged for people to pick and dip.

She remembered being so, so excited to see her family, and show off her outfit, and claim all the glory for being best dressed. She remembered being so filled with childish joy that her mom hadn't even put the car into park, and she had opened her door to bound down and get a head start.

When she'd got there, everyone else was in casual clothes. A sting of their laughter filled her head, and she rubbed the flat pane of her chest.

The driver slowed them down, and Caroline did a full head-check to make sure no one she knew was in the immediate vicinity.

"Are you ready?" Klaus asked.

She shrugged one shoulder. Her foot tap-tap-tapped relentlessly, and she reached up to pull the mirror down and check under her eyes for smudges of mascara. There was nothing wrong with her face, per se, but she still felt obscenely under-dressed. She dove into her bag and re-applied the smudge of gloss she had scraped off with nervous lip chewing, then carefully neatened the line with her thumb nail.

"Do I look okay?" she asked, flipping up the visor. She looked at the clingy mulberry skirt and her modest Mary Janes, reaching down to tuck the tongue of the strap neatly into the buckle.

"Gorgeous," he promised her.

"Is this top too low?" Her hand flew to the visor to angle it right. She gave her faint hint of cleavage a scowl of scrutiny. "Is this see-through?"

Could everyone see her bra? She tugged the front up over the swell of her breasts, and straightened the thick straps over the bra beneath. A curl had escaped from the pins surrounding her bun and she gasped like she'd been shot.

"Caroline," Klaus placated. "As always, you're perfect. Nothing is too low, too high, or too tight."

"Are you sure?" she stressed. Once that stray curl had been pinned down, she returned to staring out the window, her foot continuing to tap-tap-tap. "Oh my god, what if I can't learn the steps? We only have today and tomorrow to learn them. What if I can't get it right?"

"Incompetence has never been an option for you," he soothed. "You're graceful, you have previous training, and you learn quickly."

"And my partner isn't too shabby either."

Tap-tap-tap.

Klaus' hand was warm and solid, clamping softly on the knee that was bouncing.

Caroline glanced at it, then sighed as she found his face. If she could guess, he wasn't happy, but he was keeping that behind a very calm facade. Just the sheer effort of it meant everything to her, and she closed her hand over his, feeling the tension bleed from her shoulders as she curled her fingers around his.

"Sorry," she said dully.

"Don't be," he said. It was just a touch too wise. "I know a thing or two about the special way family can get under your skin."

"I just-" What exactly was she going to tell him? That she was scared she might burst into tears from the nasty things they said to her, die of embarrassment of the way they would treat Klaus, or eat someone for a combination of those things? "Can you keep an eye on me? I'm so hungry. I should've eaten before we got here. I don't know _what_ I was thinking, I'm so _stupid_ -"

He lifted both his brows at her in such a way that her mouth stopped moving.

"I would never let anyone call you stupid," he told her. "And I won't hear it from you. The minions are getting you bags for home. Do you have a preference for type?"

Even more weight lifted from her shoulders, and she breathed easier. Food was assured, and Klaus could stop her if she decided to get a little snacky.

"No. Thanks." A beat. "Klaus?" Even she heard the sound of her pitched voice, sounding like a scared little girl. She felt like one, to add insult to bleeding injury.

She was a scary vampire! A killer to her very marrow! A big, bad, bump-in-the-night!

"Yes, love?"

She did the only thing that made sense to her; the thing she had done when she had been young, and spooked. She unbuckled and threw herself dramatically over the back seat, diving head first onto Klaus' lap. She pulled her hand - still clutching his - over her head, shut her eyes, and _hid_.

Her forehead was pretty solidly against his stomach, so she felt the breath he held onto while he found his calm. He slotted his fingertips into her hair, thumb ghosting over the shell of her ear. The other hand cupped the back of her head, nearly eclipsing her entire skull in his hands.

"Hiding won't get it done," he murmured.

"I know," she grumbled. "I need a minute."

"I can give you one minute."

With her eyes shut, all she could hear was the swipe of his thumb rasping on the delicate arch of her cartilage. Her hand was still clutching his, so she shifted it up to brace his wrist - wiggling insistently under the thick cuff of his henley to get at the bare skin beneath. Just carding her fingers over the hairs on his forearm gave her something better to think about. The scritch under her nails was pleasant the same way those stupid soap-cutting videos on YouTube made her feel.

"We're going to be late if you indulge for much longer," he said softly.

"I like it down here." Squished against his thigh, hiding against his belt, her usually boisterous voice was muffled. She was pretending that was also the reason it sounded so sad. "I'm not going. I'll call Aunt Linda and tell her I'm sick."

His breath inflated his belly, so she was very aware of the pointed hold of it inside his lungs. He let it go as he urged her into sitting, taking care to run his blunt nails over the parts in her hair his fingers had made. He looked into her eyes, anchoring her to the feel of him.

"You are not a quitter, nor a coward," he told her firmly. His hands encircled her throat in a surprisingly comforting gesture. "We're going."

Protests started to fall from her lips, each one as lame and stuttered as the next, as all her blessed calm started to blurt from her mouth in a desperate attempt to get him to let her stay hidden in the car, but there was never a single time where he looked like her was going to give in to her.

So she admitted the truth.

"I'm scared."

"Of what, love?"

Nothing. Everything.

"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. The thought of having to explain made her feel - ick. Talking about her feelings would make her feel them.

"It matters," he assured her.

Except it didn't.

"It's just -" She exhaled shortly. "Stuff from when I was a kid. Feels different with vampire goggles on."

"I'll never take a child's trauma lightly regardless of the eyes they see it with." He tilted his head at her. "What have they done to you?"

She shook her head.

A lot of her hurt had festered in the time since her mother had passed. You know, when she had been the lone one standing on her own two feet to handle the house, and bills, and vampire life - never mind her school, featuring extra curriculars, GPA, and various committees. Never mind the psychotic ex, and crazy supernatural activities, and magic and werewolves and hybrids oh my.

She had done it without a mom, and without a dad. She would keep having to do it. Because no one else would. Because she wasn't worth their time.

"It's old news."

" _I'm_ old news," he pointed out. "I still notoriously bang on about my father, in case you hadn't noticed. It's a defining feature of a lot of our time spent together. What did they do to you?"

When she was a little girl, her deepest held suspicion was that - _I'll never be the one._

It had been reinforced time, and time again, by the people who were now the last of her living family bloodline.

Liz had always bent her knee to Linda in deference to her little sister, and in the name of being the bigger woman. But all that had meant was that what Caroline wanted, what she worked for, and what was important to her, didn't matter. If someone else threw a bigger tantrum, or batted prettier eyelashes, she didn't matter.

"Forget it."

"I won't."

"I'm being dramatic."

"Caroline-"

"Just drop it. It doesn't matter." She rubbed her fist into her eye socket to smother the urge to cry, and quickly turned away to pull down the visor and check her makeup. She'd left a touch of highlight on Klaus' jean pocket, but was otherwise okay. Her hair didn't really need neatening, but she felt better for doing it anyway. "I just want to get it over with."

Her hand had barely closed around the handle when the door opened for her, and Klaus stood in the opening.

Thick lips were pushed forward in a thoughtful pout, and he watched her with eyes that only appeared calm on the surface, offering riots and bloodshed on the inside. He offered his hand, and she took it, dropping from the car and shutting the door behind her, linking their fingers into a single fist.

He tipped her face up with the slightest touch of his crooked knuckle under her chin. That same hand softened, and cupped her face, sliding around to cover the nape of her neck, under her low bun.

There was no resistance in her when he dragged her in, lowering his lids as she dipped her free hand around his hip and into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'm here," he told her roughly.

It was probably best that it was all he said. She was close to either damsel-in-distress bailing, hysterical laughter, or killing a bunch of people.

The thought of it made goosebumps spread in a wave on her left side. She swallowed against her very dry mouth and pulled him in tighter to her by the firm grip she had on his butt. If she squeezed and his eye ticked, neither of them chose to acknowledge it.

"Remember the plan," she whispered. "Introduction, dance, done."

"Home, shower, no bra-" His eyes warmed a fraction when she managed a tiny smile. "Bourbon, movie, bed. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Ready?" He let his hand go from the back of her neck as she disengaged from his pocket, but it was the most painfully reluctant thing she'd ever been a part of on both ends.

It was so weird, that now they were only holding hands. It felt like a live wire.

"Yeah," she said, and even kind of meant it. She let him lead her, but his eyes stuck only on her face. Tucking into his side, she looked down at her dress. "Are you sure I don't look cheap?"

"Grace Kelly would stand in awe of you," he told her as they came around the front of the studio.

The lot of them were still standing there, though they were joined by someone Caroline didn't know. A short guy who eyeballed them through the plumes of smoke from his mouth.

Maggie spotted them and gave Mark's arm a quick whack, jerking her head in their direction. Hissing low enough that her assembled group had to lean in to hear her, she said:

"That's beauty and the bitch that Bethany was talking about!"

"Oh shit," Mark said. "She got hot."

Stacey glowered at him, and then aimed it at Caroline.

Joan's already pinched mouth decided to close some more. Her deeply grooved mouth was painted with a plum lip color that matched her t-shirt, but it did little to make her lips look fuller. Her hair was flat to her skull, every flyaway held hostage with copious amounts of spray.

"Just ignore her," was her cold advice. She flicked the tail end of her cigarette in Caroline's direction, turning her nose up to walk inside the studio.

"Wait, that's her boyfriend?" Leon said. "He looks nice."

He was the youngest cousin in the family, still getting a handle on things. Now in his early teens, he was being groomed to become the next owner of Wally's Wagon - a little Western themed restaurant that kept uncle Lewis and his family plied with money. Except he wasn't so bad, not really. He had been one of a handful of people who'd been good to her at her mom's funeral, and the only one to message her a few days after to check in.

"He looks foreign."

"He's been hired, dude, he's supposed to to look good to women," Mark offered under his breath. He dialed up his smile as they came within human hearing range. "Hey, cuz! What's up? Long time no see."

"Hi Mark." She bizarrely reminded herself of that stupid movie The Room. Her face morphed to something less mortified, and she let it. "Hey Leon, Stacey. This is my boyfriend Kl-"

"Yeah, hi," Maggie interjected. She waved the hand with her cigarette in her face. "Hello to you too."

"I literally just saw you," Caroline said with disdain, flapping her hand around her nose. "And I was introducing-"

"What, you bothered?" Maggie said. She sucked on the filter and drew in a big breath, aiming it at Caroline's face. "Maybe just fuckin' say hello to me next time instead of ignoring me. We get it. You have a boyfriend. It's not the next coming of Christ."

"But it is a miracle," Stacey drawled. She flicked her eyes down to Caroline's dress. "Hmph. That's cute. I had something like it when I was like, seven."

"Ignore her, she's on the rag," Mark said. He offered Klaus his hand to shake, ignoring the smack Stacey gave his arm. "I'm Mark. Nice to meetcha. You gotta tell me how you nailed down Care, here, 'cuz last I heard she wasn't interested in boys."

Klaus gave his outstretched palm a Look. Maybe if Caroline didn't know him, she'd liken it to smelling putrid milk. As it stood, she could almost read the diabolical list of ways to maim the hand, verging into crazy territory with the half smile he summoned.

Caroline wrapped her free hand around his forearm, and looked at Leon with a wavering smile.

"Leon you've grown since the last time I saw you," she tried. "What sport do you play?"

He turned sheepish under the attention, hand flying up to scrub the back of his neck.

"Dad's put me in football," he mentioned. "I uh, I really like tennis, but-"

"Tennis is a chick sport," Mark said. He dropped his hand and puffed out his chest at Klaus. "You're a rude little prick, huh?"

"Well he's dating her," Maggie said, indicating to Caroline with two fingers, her precious cigarette caught between them.

"Yeah, I get it," Mark went on. "Like fuck, man, I was being nice. You're coming here to say hi to my family and you're gonna act tough shit? Fuck that. Fuck you."

"Rude fuck," Stacey said snidely. She cut her eyes to Caroline, her spiteful sneer warping a naturally pretty face into something a bit more demented. "Linda won't let him in the wedding if he's gonna be such a fucking little prick."

"Oh no," Caroline said, bored. "I won't come to the wedding. That's definitely the worst thing that can happen to me."

"Uh," Leon said. He put his hands in his pockets. "Mark, maybe just-?"

"What's that, rude fuck?" Mark said. He started to bop like he was in a boxing ring. A poor rendition of someone who knew anything about how to throw a punch. "Square up? D'you say square up, you mother fuck?"

"Get him, baby," Stacey goaded. She took a nonchalant drag on the end of her cigarette. "She can't pay him enough once you're through with him."

Caroline felt shame fill her lungs and spill out into her guts, curdling whatever delicious food had been left in there. This was it. Her extended family. A packet of unrefined weirdos, creeps, low-rung criminals and wanna bes.

"Square up!" Mark did a one-two punch in mid-air that looked like it was done through jell-o to Caroline's vampire eyes. "You wanna spit in my face, mother fucker, square up!"

"Dude, it wasn't that bad," Leon said. "Calm down."

"Shut it," Maggie snapped. She wagged her finger under Caroline's nose again to waft her smoke directly up her nose. "It's her that's the fuckin' problem-!"

Klaus did pretty well, all things considered. He plucked the still lit cigarette out from between her fingers and flicked it into Mark's wagging mouth. His hand streaked forward like a viper and latched under his chin, forcing his teeth to stay shut.

Mark folded like a stack of wet cardboard, screaming. Smoke shot through his teeth.

"Hello," he said pleasantly. "I'm Klaus. Caroline's boyfriend. So lovely to meet you."

Mark tried to pry his fingers away with both desperate hands, and Klaus didn't move an inch. His mild smile met Stacey as she opened her mouth with a shriek of protest just behind her tongue, but something about his temperament made her take a self-preserving step back and cut it off.

Klaus returned to looking at Mark with his eyebrows up, smile still fixed in place. The cigarette had evidently gone out, because he wasn't screaming anymore, but he still couldn't get Klaus' thumb dug out from his cheek.

"H-Hey, man," Leon said. His voice cracked. "He's just - he's just playing. You can let him go now."

As though there wasn't an entirely struggling human caught in his hand, Klaus tilted his head at the teen, who blinked rapidly. His heart was frantic in his chest, and he was shifting from foot to foot, but he didn't step back.

"Should I?" Klaus asked the boy.

"Yeah." Leon's nod was eager. "Yeah, yes. You can let him go now. Please. Mister, uh, Klaus."

Klaus looked to Caroline.

She desperately wanted to hide in his shoulder. She wanted Leon's heart to stop throbbing loud enough that she could feel it reverberating in her belly. She wanted to kick Mark's balls up through his mouth and throw them into Stacey's eyes, and make Maggie eat whatever splatter came out the sides.

"We like Leon?" he guessed.

"We like Leon," she agreed.

"Hm." He hauled Mark up by the jaw, bringing him in to stare into his eyes. He didn't use compulsion. "I suggest you stay right away from Caroline, mate. Because the next time I get you in arm's reach, the boy's word won't stop what I'm going to do to you. Do you understand me?"

Mark shouted something through his forced shut teeth, but it didn't sound at all like he was agreeing. Spittle shot from his lips, tears leaking from his eyes, but he swung his foot and gave Klaus' shin a solid kick.

"Klaus," Caroline said. She still had his hand wrapped up in hers, and gave it a little squeeze. "Not in front of Leon."

"Mm." Was all he could get out. He was a little crazy eyed, without blinking and a tight smile pulling his lips. He made a point to effortlessly lift Mark clear off the ground with his one hand, then tossed him like a sack of limp potatoes in the vague direction of Stacey.

Maggie's gawping turned into a quick back-peddal as he turned his undivided attention on her.

"I saw nothing," she said, putting her hands up at him. "Nothing. I did not see a fuckin' thing."

"Cleverest thing I've heard all day," Klaus told her. He looked at Stacey, who had done absolutely nothing to help Mark out of the bush, or check that he wasn't really badly hurt. Then he looked at Leon, who was a shade of white, and back to Caroline. "Should we _convince_ them of a better introduction, sweetheart?"

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, but even putting her mouth on his burly shoulder couldn't stop it from getting out. It was mostly nerves, but there was a little itty bit of justice and unrestrained joy.

There was nothing to do for it - she adored being shielded by the Big Bad Wolf, and his uniquely vicious way of handling things. Besides, it had been a long time coming that someone stood up for her to these people.

"I like this version of events," she confessed.

He brought their linked fingers to his mouth and gave them a kiss, which didn't do a hint of damage to his smile.

"Better than Stefan?" he prompted.

For a second, she had no idea what he meant by that. She lifted her head and drew her brows together, mouth still smiling faintly. Then she recalled: she had told Klaus that she'd thought about asking Stefan to accompany her to the wedding weekend. He was still hung up on that.

Knowing that feeling of playing second fiddle, she didn't waste any time to correct the theory, even if it was wildly out of line with what had actually happened.

"Stefan who?" she said sweetly, and pecked his cheek.

"Good answer," he paid her.

Her attention briefly shifted to Leon, still standing in one place, left forgotten by Maggie (who had backed herself out into the car park, and was peering over a random car roof at them), and Stacey (who was trying to pry Mark out of the bush while she kept her eyes solely honed on Klaus' face).

"Hey," she said, trying to think of what she could say to help him feel at least, a little better. Having known the effect Klaus could have on a person when he was in murder-death-kill mode, she struggled. "We're good, Leon. You don't have to be scared of us."

"Oh, yeah, I uh-" he looked meaningfully at Klaus. "I don't have a, uh, problem with you, Caroline."

"Clever lad," Klaus said simply. "Come along now. We've got a dance to learn."

Leon looked over at Mark as Stacey managed to get him out of the bushes, and then back at Klaus. His shoulders hiked, and he put his twisting, sweating hands together to pick at the skin around his nail beds.

"I'll come in a second." It cracked twice. He cringed. "I should probably... Help."

Klaus shrugged his shoulder, and steered Caroline inside the first set of glass doors, holding the second set open to reveal the reception area for the studio. Behind the front desk was a door with a sign that clearly said: 'STAFF ONLY'. To the left were the bathrooms, and to the right was: 'BETHANY WEDDING PARTY'.

"I like the lad," Klaus said, meandering toward the door.

"He's a good kid for now," Caroline agreed. "His brother Jace was like him a few years ago. Now he's just as awful as uncle Lewis."

"Uncle Lewis is your mother's brother?"

She shook her head.

"He's my mom's uncle."

"Ah." He opened the door and showed her through, never letting go of her hand.

She needed the strength, because when they walked in, it didn't take long for everyone to turn around and have something to say.

The dance class hadn't started yet, but everyone was more than aware of Bethany's severe case of Bridezilla, and had shown up early. Even by Caroline's standards. They were all in an assortment of comfortable clothes and flowy skirts, sneakers, flip flops and heels. They had convened in groups of those who were most familiar to them, chatting while they waited.

"The nerve of her to show up," said someone with glee.

"I would've ended it by now, for sure. Between Liz dying and looking like that? Game over. What's the point in living?"

Klaus stopped walking, tuning his ear to the direction of the commenter. It wouldn't matter, because they all started talking again, disrupting the singular space the insult had come from. He looked with narrowed eyes, but everyone was doing the looking at the stranger and pretending not to thing, and the person got away with it.

"It's okay," she soothed. Each of her fingers drummed in the spaces of his knuckles, jerky and out of time. "Let's go put my bag down near the emergency exit so I can sneak out to anxiety throw up later."

He grunted, and turned his face forward. His chest was curved out and he was walking slightly in front of her, boldly looking into the face of anyone who dared catch his eye. Each person gave a start and glanced away.

"Is that the one she hired?"

"How much do you think she's paying him?"

"At least a grand, maybe a grand a day."

"Yeah, something like that. Why else would anyone want to be seen-?"

Caroline wrapped her other hand around his arm and gave the bicep there a little squeeze. He bent their arms to bring the back of her hand to his mouth and give it a quick kiss, softening a touch when he caught her eye.

"I thought she took the vow of celibacy?"

"Like she did, but she wasn't willing." The snide voice she knew. One of Bethany's bride squad, Amilla. She had been the year under Caroline's at Mystic Falls for a few years, and had been a nice girl. When she'd moved, Bethany latched claws into her, and started the rumor mill spinning in a whole other county.

"I'd fuck her." Everett. An on-again-off-again 'best friend' of Bethany's. Caroline thought that people would have to be blind not to piece together that he was boning her on the reg, but apparently that made her a vicious, lying, back-stabbing hater. "I reckon I could fuck him, too."

"Ew!"

Klaus pulled her into the corner and lowered his head, looking at her from under his brow. He watched her face as she set her things away, turning to check her appearance in the mirrored wall that ran the height and length of the studio.

"It's not bad yet," she said lightly. "Give them a minute to warm up and remember everything."

He put his arm around her waist, chin tucking over her shoulder. The rasp of his stubble scraped over the exposed skin there, followed by a soft brush of his mouth. He flattened his hand on her belly and she pressed hers over the top, breathing in deep.

"I might invent new ways to torture people today," he said low. "I haven't done that since the fourteenth century."

"Glad I could _stroke_ the muse." Accidentally on purpose, she bumped her ass against his jeans, eyeing him coyly in the reflection. "I'm so good at inspiring thoughts. Did you know, Mr. Mikealson, I had to take off the panties I was wearing earlier?"

A cheekier smile spread on his mouth. The other hand covered hers, still on top of his. The merest suggestion of pressure made her relax against him, in that quiet corner, removed from every one.

"I imagine there was quite a mess," he whispered into her ear.

"They were nearly dripping," she agreed. "But we were in such a rush to get here, Klaus - you know I forgot to put any other ones on?"

"I had a sneaking suspicion," he told her. "I'm surprised you didn't tell me off for looking, as I could barely get my eyes off your arse earlier."

"Maybe I didn't notice?" she said, falsely sweet. "Or maybe I'm giving you a series of little 'thank you's during this weekend?"

"You don't have to thank me," he told her. He saw her tilt her head for the stubble on his cheek, and he pressed against her, dragging it shortly. "But I might insist that you don't wear underwear ever."

As nice as the flirty flirt was, it was sure not to last. There was no telling what might've come from her playful suggestion that maybe some underwear was meant to be seen but not worn for very long, because a snide voice caught her attention.

"Isn't there a medicine for her thing, though?"

"What thing?"

"The STD. I thought there was a cure."

"Oh Lord, honey. No. If you catch what she's got you'll be one foot in the grave after her mom." There was a rustling of a bag. "Here. Hand sanitizer. If she touches you, wipe down."

"I can't catch it from touching her hands... Can I?"

"Do you want to risk it? You don't know where she's been."

Across the room, another person started to talk.

"She looks like Liz, but not," said a voice she thought may have been her cousin Daniel's. It sounded weirdly disappointed. She couldn't figure out what he meant by that, and trying to peer at him only brought her attention to more horrified whispering.

" _That's_ who Caroline's dating now?" said a miffed voice. "Jesus, he's gorgeous. How come she gets to go home to him every night?"

"Because she's a whore, dear. Selling your morals for a handsome face will get you a pretty bit of arm candy, and a whole lot closer to hell. Stop staring."

Klaus took her face in his hand and brushed a kiss to her cheek. The other braced her arm and gave it a tender rub that made heat burst in her veins.

"I'm here," he promised her gently.

"I'm really grateful," she promised, exhaling quietly. "I mean - I didn't want to come so technically I'm mad at you right now because I should've bailed-"

"Nothing they say will matter in fifty years," he reminded her. "Nor will it matter by next year. What will matter is that you proved that you could endure them. Trust an old man on it, love, your strength to defy them will keep you warmer at night than their petty words will keep you cold."

God, he was just so...

Pretty, and eloquent.

"You're on my side," she acknowledged.

"Always," he agreed.

The next thing she knew, and her fingertips were curling that perfect half curl behind his ear. His eyes were glittering, and she found her nails combing the ends of his hair. She smiled and got one in return, and lifted the other hand to mirror the other side of his neck. Whoops. Now she was cradling his throat in her palms, and she couldn't stop beaming. 

Nothing could bring her down. Not even:

"I thought she was Miss Mystic Falls?"

"Yeah, she was." The voice was completely disinterested.

"I thought the pageant girls had to be pretty?"

"No, they just need to be rich enough to buy the judges. That's where all of Aunt Liz's money went."

Now that she didn't feel attacked, she let her attention drift to the conversation, her shoes mindlessly taking her to Klaus. Her arms linked over his shoulders and he made his palms at home on the expanse of her back, bending his head to kiss her shoulder.

"You're alright?" he murmured.

"I want to hear this bit of gossip," she whispered.

"- Because no one got anything. I'm just saying. It's interesting that there wasn't enough to hand out, but she can stay in the big empty house by herself and afford to keep it with no job."

"Wasn't she working at the newspaper?"

"What-? Oh, no, that was Heather."

"Heather," repeated the voice fondly. "Now there was a girl to be proud of."

"They really think my mom had like, a secret fortune," she said with a sad twist of her mouth. She disengaged and straightened his already impeccable shirt, just to give her hands something to do. Her eyes found his and she could summon a smile, but it was pretty hard. "Sorry. This already sucks for you, doesn't it?"

"No," he said simply.

"Oh, c'mon, I don't need you to lie," she said, half-teasing. "There's a whole heap of things you could be doing this weekend. You could be painting or doing- whatever nefarious Klaus-things you do. It sucks, admit it."

"I'm having quite a good time, thank you very much," he retorted with good humor.

"Yeah, getting second hand insulted is a great time," she said dramatically.

"I've gotten to share a drink with you," he reminded her. "I've gotten to see you turned on, hold you, and kiss you. That's all within the very first part of this weekend, so I rather can't wait to see where we go. Remind me of your stance on public fornication?"

She whacked his arm with her mouth popped open.

"Don't be gross," she demanded with the barest hint of a smile.

"That isn't a no." He waggled his brows.

The laugh that burst out of her made several people stare. She was sure it was because they had been told for many years that she was an uptight nerd/prude who never smiled. She found her shoulders relaxing, even against the few that were still talking about her or her mom.

"Like," she said, pretending to think. "I guess we could do it at the wedding and upstage the bride. That'd kill her, and give the rest of my family something to talk about."

Then he did something that completely surprised her. He took her hand and spun her, moving easily to dip her in a deep bow, startling a peal of shocked laughter out of her lips. Even though she knew they were all watching, she found her eyes locked on his.

"Shall we give them something to talk about now?" he mused, and stood them upright. He lead her out of his embrace, and then effortlessly spun her back in on the toes of her shoes, her skirt fanning out around her legs to curl around his when she landed neatly back in his sphere. Her back to his front, he murmured in her ear. (She pressed her hips back by accident. She left them there on purpose.) "I can make it good, or would you prefer the bad?"

"Give me something good," she told him, looking over her shoulder with a smile curling her lip. "If you can."

He pecked the very tip of her nose.

"Course, love," he cooed, and spun her out again.

He drew her back into his arms, hand braced possessively on her shoulder. He held their linked hands out in a mockery of a proper waltz, and aligned their temples. His footsteps were sure, an easy to follow lead. Though they had only ever danced twice before to very specific guidelines, the chemistry between them was irrefutable.

"Yes, see, this is why we're learning to dance," Bethany said. Her voice was intended to carry, and so it did, bouncing off the mirrored wall. She clicked by them without actually looking at Caroline, nose in the air. "So no one else had to look like they're having epilepsy on my wedding video."

Except Caroline only noticed in passing, because Klaus was doing his level best to keep her distracted with his footwork, which meant she actively had to pay attention to him or get left behind.

Her laugh made Bethany seize up, and stop walking - she only knew because the loud click of her heels went quiet.

Klaus spun her in a tight circle, one hot hand braced on her waist to turn her around manually, then caught her lower back in one hand and moved her around in an arch, pulling her tight up against his hip to get her to whip up into standing.

He was grinning as she clutched his shirt, still laughing.

"There's my girl," he said. His mouth feather soft, pressing the barest of kisses to her cheek. Did she swoon? Was it hot in there? What did that mean, _his girl_?

Oh, god, wait. Did he know? Did he know she wanted him to be hers? Had he guessed? Had she said something? My girl? _My girl_? Oh, god. God she was gonna fuck him in front of everybody. Oh no.

She unfurled her finger to press the tip of her nail below one of the charming speckles on his throat. The need to breathe was only a habit, but she was obeying the unconscious urge to do it deeply as she linked both hands behind his head and lay her forearms along his chest. It felt intimate, and really, really public.

(Her brain was still like, JUST DO THE PUBLIC SEX THING, so she settled for the clinging. He didn't seem to mind.)

"Have you always been a dancer?" she wondered.

"The dances in my youth are a far sight from this one," he told her fondly. "A lot more fire. A lot more wine. And many more sacrifices to greedy gods."

"Oh but that's the best part," she teased.

With his hands splayed on her lower back, he urged her in closer, making one of her feet lift off the floor for less resistance of his turning them in a circle.

"If we could all get our act together," Bethany announced. It was aimed in their general direction. "We only have an hour and a half today to get the basic steps down, and if my time gets wasted-"

"And the nudity," he mentioned under his breath. His smirk was pure filth, and she loved it. "Did I mention the stripping?"

"Around the fire?" She pretended to think. "No, can't say you mentioned that."

"I remember the first pair of breasts I ever saw," he said with good humor. "At one of those dances."

"Ooh, juicy." She twirled one of the curls on his nape around her finger. "Was that super exciting for the younger version of you?"

"It was." His eyes flashed with mischief. "She was what we used to refer to politely as 'blessed'."

"And impolitely?"

"Oh no. Never impolitely. My mother was very strict about how we discussed the particulars of women, and we were escorted to those dances under her extraordinarily watchful eye."

"You saw the first pair of boobs ever with your mom?"

"Sitting literally right next to me. Kol on the other side. Apparently we couldn't be trusted."

Caroline barely caught her giggle into the tips of her fingers. There was a choreographer giving a run down of how the day was going to go, and the sound of Bethany's whinny: ' _Mommy she's being so rude!_ ' but everyone else was quiet. Klaus was speaking in a roughish, dangerously blase rasp, moving his mouth to her ear to make her body burst into goosebumps.

"Like, I can't say I blame her," she breathed. "You two were trouble on the prowl, when I saw you last."

"That's because you never really got to meet Finn."

"I thought he's the boring one?"

"He was with us. But he was the one who made father take us aside to explain the perils of getting a woman pregnant." He screwed up his nose. "Then he took all of us, Bekah included, to watch our neighbor give birth. Just to scare us off even more."

"Did it work?"

"Like a bloody charm," he said. "Elijah, Kol and I barely looked at a woman until we were given mother's blessing - and a couple of spellbags to ward off fertility."

"Poor Rebekah," she said, feeling for the young girl. "A live birth would've put me off boys probably forever."

"The trouble with Bekah is, and always will be, that she wants to be loved," he said. There was a pause, as he considered how much he really wanted to say. "She had learned that if you loved a man, you should go to bed with him and be bred by him. It took years longer than her natural life for us to have her purge the thought."

Caroline cringed.

"Consider it purged," she said. "God, Rebekah. I never thought about it like that."

"She does still dally, of course, and occasionally calls that falling in love."

"Yeah but when we-" Instructions were given she could barely think about following, an awful yawn of hunger searing open in her belly. She followed Klaus, because Klaus could listen, and assumed the position of a high-chined, straight-backed waltz after he held her that way. "I can't remember what we were talking about."

"Sex equating to love," he said. "Rebekah unlearning that these things are not one in the same."

"Oh yeah," she said. "I mean, I think it gets harder, after the... you know. Turning. Sex was tricky when we were human, let alone with all the-... Amplified reactions."

The instructor was roaming between the couples to adjust them from posture to the height of their arms. Everyone got a critique, but she gave Klaus and Caroline one up-and-down and then carried on with a thumbs up. Hell yeah. Thumbs up from teachers fed her soul.

She preened, mouth kicking up in a pleased quirk.

Klaus just grinned back at her.

"Mostly because we things that bump in the night occasionally crave a little bump back." His eyes were hooded, the naughty twist on his lip intentionally grating. "Which is why you keep drifting into positively delicious little fantasies in your hunger, and I keep getting looked at like a stack of meat you're about to devour whole."

Ah, there was the teasing she'd expected earlier. She had the sudden thought he hadn't mentioned anything because he was worried about her hunger.

With a Miss Mystic Smile, they began the very basic three-step waltz at the que of the music. The track was not very fast and the steps had been the basics of all her formal dancing, so this sort of thing was something she could do in her sleep - let alone supported by a guy who'd been there when it came into vogue.

They literally danced circles up and down the long line of her family, effortless. The glimpses she caught in the mirror were making her feel a lot of heat. Appreciation, attraction, and a deep glow of a job done perfectly.

"Tell me more about-" She turned at his gentle signal, skirt sweeping out in a berry flutter around her legs. "-When you were with your family. At the dances. When you were young. Specifically about the boobs."

His bark of laughter sent a thrill through her, but she wasn't entirely sure it was anything particularly sexual, rather than sensual. There was an immense feeling of closeness to him, while they were being so perfect to the rest of her family's clumsiness and glaring.

"Well you can imagine we were all a little distracted from the sacrifice, which was all we'd been excited for." Teeth flashed in a grin. "The times were such that breasts were often kept quite loosely hidden, but hidden all the same. These particular ones were full and high, and the movement in them was something quite mesmerizing to a bunch of children who'd never known breasts before. She had to hold on to them when she was bouncing, which effectively just gave us something new to gawk at."

She laughed.

"How old were you?"

"About twelve, maybe? Bekah was ten. Deliriously jealous of all the attention Aida was getting, for she had no 'blessings' of her own."

"Oh my- Klaus!"

He snickered.

"All of us sat in a row with our mouths hanging open, watching her go in a circle. Elijah just about wept when she went home, and Kol actually did."

"I never took him for a boob guy."

"He can be a right fiend for a full pair," he noted. "As it turns out, my noble brother is more a fan of the derriere than a decent conversation."

"Oh, that I do not believe. Elijah is a nice guy!"

"He's a well dressed ass-man," he assured her.

"No way, he's so nice. Elena can't speak highly enough of him, and he was her bad guy."

"I wonder what that says about me, then," he said casually.

"Huh?"

"If Elena speaks so well of Elijah, and he was her bad guy - I would love to know what you said about me when I wasn't around."

She patted his cheek.

"Nothing I don't already tell you to your face."

He nipped at her thumb.

"Be nice or I'll drop you on our next spin."

"Uh huh. So wait, what's your weakness when it comes to ladies?"

"I don't have a weakness for ladies. I love all ladies."

"You have to have a thing, though."

"I don't have to have anything."

"There's gotta be something. You know. Elijah likes a booty, Kol likes the boobies. You like...?"

"Well, being that I am an artist - a sensitive soul, you understand-" Caroline's _'mm, yes, art, of course, so sensitive,'_ was extremely dry. He gave her ribs a warning tickle. "-I've always found myself besotted, completely enraptured, by a woman's smile."

"I just want you to know I rolled my eyes. In my soul. I just rolled my soul-eyes at you."

"It's true. I've been stuck on smiles my entire life. Ask anyone."

"Yeah, let's imagine that conversation," she said with false cheer. "'Hey, Rebekah, it's me Caroline! Just wondering - you know how Kol loves boobs, and Elijah's an ass man? What's Klaus kryptonite'?"

"Well, seeing as you can get a hold of her at your discretion, you could call her."

Laughing, she turned out, her foot planted weirdly and skidded a vampire strength stripe into the wooden boards under her heel. A curl of wood spiraled up behind her heel to evidence the hastiness of her halting, and though there would be guilt later, she was grateful that she'd immediately stopped spinning regardless for the damage she'd done.

Clark had angled himself to be crashed into on purpose. She knew it was on purpose because his hands were already out to catch her, but she'd never fallen into his grip.

A tightly clenched hand pulled at Klaus' fingers to get him closer to her back, and she had precisely zero qualms in getting his palm flat on her stomach as a clear show of ownership.

"Hey Caroline," Clark said.

He had started going grey at his roots since she'd seen him last. There was a fairly solid weight-gain around his waist, too. He was still every basic accountant type she had ever seen, with the squarish 90's glasses and the deep side part. But the way he was staring made her vampire senses start to tingle.

"Clark," she offered, followed instantly with: "Have you met my boyfriend Klaus?"

"Oh, no, haven't had the pleasure. Hey there." Clark held out his hand. Caroline turned to say: ' _this one you have to do, please_ ' so Klaus gave it a customary shake. "Nice to finally meet you. Caroline has told me all about you."

"All good things, I hope?"

"Some of the time they might even be true. You've got a real firecracker in her, Klaus."

Her whole world view had shifted. This guy was like, the grayest little mouse in her world, from behind the predator lens on her eyes. There was still a shrill bell in the back of her head that rang endlessly when he was looking at her. There was just a little something not quite right. Something lurking. She twined her fingers in Klaus' and leaned into his strength.

"I'm a lucky man," Klaus told him. "I haven't properly congratulated you on the impeding nuptials."

And he didn't. Caroline didn't miss it. Clark, however, did.

"Oh yeah, thank you. Bethany's making me a better man."

"How?" Caroline said. She didn't mean to. She fully intended to blame Klaus in some way - and it was his fault. Her brain was flooded with all those lovely chemicals from dancing, and the way he stood at her back was like a personal guard. Or an Alpha ready to rip throats out for his Queen.

(Which was something that she would dissect later. As in, with a vibrator, behind a shut door.)

Luckily, Clark didn't seem to mind.

"Well, I keep the house nicer now that we live together," he said. And that was it. The be all and end all of how he was a 'better man' for knowing Bethany.

Klaus flexed his fingers on her back. In the tiny movement, she read his amusement.

"She's so good for you," she said, laying it on thick. "I'm so glad you two found each other!"

"It was lucky," he agreed. He looked at Klaus. "Say, we're going honeymooning in Hawaii. Linda mentioned you come from money. So if you wanted to meet up with us, you're more than welcome."

"How friendly," Klaus drawled.

"I know that you two don't always get along, but maybe some sun and sand will mend that bridge?" He leered. It was a total leer. "You two on the beach with some drinks and a little pink bathing suit? Could go a way to make you friends again."

"Mm," Caroline said shortly. "I think I'd rather suck the hair out of my drain, but thanks."

Klaus pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her shoulder. Honestly, she thought he was initially trying to hide his snickering, but when she saw the way that Clark's eyes locked on to the small shows of affection, she knew it was a 'marking the territory' thing.

And boy, oh boy. Did it do something for her. (Later. Vibrator. His Queen. _Mine_. Oh god.)

"Awh, no need to be like that," Clark mentioned, almost in a daze. "If you can't get away to Hawaii with us, you could always pick a place for later, Caroline. Somewhere sunny and warm. With a pool."

"No need for long sleeves, jeans or woolly hats," Klaus tacked on. "Somewhere we could go and get you in a flirty little skirt."

"Yeah," he said. "Somewhere hot."

"I wouldn't invite the wife, mate," Klaus said lightly. "Just for the first few trips out. We should make sure we have an understanding between us."

Clark's heart started to beat really hard. Disturbingly hard.

"An understanding," he repeated, and said absolutely nothing after that.

"Klaus," Caroline warned.

He tightened his arms around her.

"We don't want the ladies to fight all the time we're away - that'd be no fun."

"It would not."

Klaus pressed another kiss on her throat, and Clark's eyes latched onto it. His little human heart was fluttering beyond his sternum, and Caroline turned in the circle of Klaus' arm to hide her blackening eyes against his throat.

"Hungry," she said through her teeth.

"My poor love," he cooed. He ran a hand over the dip in her lower back, boardering dangerously sitting on her hip. The feel of her skirt laying on bare skin was made more prominent with the anchor of his hand, and the play to show off her panty-less behind became clear. "We could nip out for a quick bite, if you want?"

She shook her head. Her hands were in claws on the front of his hoodie. In a low hiss, she said: "Stop encouraging him, I'm starving, I can't put my fangs away!"

"It's been a big day," he went on. His hand edged onto actual ass territory. "You know what a dive your mood can take when we don't keep you happy, hm?"

"Yeah," Clark said. "Bethany is the same."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Klaus mused. "Caroline has a positively frightful temper when she's hungry. I find it endearing, until she aims it at me."

"Yeah," was what Clark could get out.

"And _what_ is her problem now?" Bethany's voice said.

Caroline's mouth opened and she dug her teeth into Klaus' chest, making the muscle jump. She definitely shredded the fabric, but only threatened the skin beneath. His free hand rubbed the back of her neck, kneading against tense muscles.

"She's hungry," Clark said. "There's a cafe not too far from here-"

"Well if she's going, I'll get a coffee order from the bride squad, and instead of making a fucking scene like a four year old she can get out of my sight and be useful."

"I'd shudder to think of where you'd have to stay," Klaus said in a slow, measured way. "If I decided that, for one reason or another, I didn't want you in my home."

"I would stay at Aunt Liz's," was her curt reply. "Seeing as how Caroline is with you, and there's space there. Don't threaten me, you pompous dick, I always have a plan B."

"And what's the plan for getting your things out of my house?" he said pointedly. "Because I don't know what kind of dress you'd get on such short notice, but I doubt it's the gaudy monstrosity you hauled into my office."

"How-?!" she shrieked. "How dare you?! It's a VERONICA LEWIS ORIGINAL!"

"It cost a small fortune," Clark agreed.

"A shame money can't buy taste," Klaus mocked.

Caroline somehow managed to unhook her teeth from where she'd been locked. There was a healthy bit of saliva, and two red scratches blooming under the holes she'd left. She had to check with her hands that her eyes were back to human, but quickly turned to interfere.

She never got the chance - her cousin David was standing, a sly look on his face. Bethany was being towed away by Amilla and the rest of the bride squad, Clark following at her heels with a blank look on his face as they all shot insults at Caroline and reinforced that her dress was _magical_.

"You Klaus?" He folded thick arms across his chest, a half baked sneer on his mouth.

"I Klaus," he retorted. "You do speak English, don't you?"

The sneer dialed up to a solid nine. He gawffed, his big belly hitching on the laughter.

"Yeah. The guys wanted to talk to you out the back, Klaus. 'Bout the bucks night, so your woman better stay right here."

The hair on Caroline's neck stood up. She nearly, nearly told him _no_. Instinct reared up in her, clawing out a hand to tear open her chest on the inside. But of all the assembled family she could gladly kill, she wouldn't have even cleared him top five. He didn't even make top ten. (Which said maybe too much about all the people she might like to kill if she didn't get some fucking blood down her throat, pronto.)

She did a full check around the room, ticking off names in her mind. At least seven of her cousins and uncles were missing. The usual suspects.

Her idiot family were actually going to attempt and ambush Klaus.

Probably in Mark's defense, because she hadn't seen him come in, and besides: Mark was a pussy bitch who never fought his own battles without an underhand tactic or two. At least three of the assembled ambushers had petty records.

"You go and tell them that Caroline said that she will not let Klaus out there without them sending Leon in."

David didn't even grace her with a look.

"You let your woman decide that shit for you?"

Caroline was very, very glad, that her boyfriend - _not-boyfriend_ \- was a super strong Original vampire with exceptional reflexes, and a temper that matched her own. She'd shot forward faster than humanly possible, hands snatching the front of his shirt. She hauled him in by one yank on the collar - Klaus ducked under her arms and closed his hands around her wrists to break the hold with a twist.

David smacked at her hands.

Caroline let her eyes bleed black.

"Hit me again," she said through sharp teeth, glaring over Klaus' shoulder "I double _fucking_ dare you."

"Shush," Klaus said, flashing David a quick compulsion with a bare twist of his head. "Stay."

"Let me-" she said darkly.

Klaus held her face in his hands, his eyes bright and glittering. Though he was amused, and it was at her expense, nothing about it was demeaning. His smile was sweet, and his touch was warm, hiding the blackened veins under her eyes with his thumbs.

"Sweetheart," he said fondly. "Far be it from me to curb anyone's violence-"

"I'm not gonna bite him!" she snapped.

"No, you'll kill him. Stop, breathe, and look at me."

She actually growled, which made David start to sweat, his heart pittering in his chest. It was addictive, that frightened, panicky sound. The sound of his blood cranked up to a roar beneath his skin, and she took a meaningful step forward, like she was going to somehow phase through the blocking hybrid.

"Caroline," he soothed. "Love. Look at me, sweetheart. You're a good vampire. Good vampires do not slaughter men."

She blinked, shifted her still inky eyes to him.

"Are you sure?" she demanded.

He shrugged.

"So you tell me. I would've allowed you to rip his arms off and beat him to death with them, but you forewarned me with a clearer head that you didn't want to do things like that."

"Why did I do that?" she muttered.

"Pesky morals, I assume." He pulled her face in to his, and pressed a kiss on her nose, her cheek, and then her temple. "We can get him later, after you've fed, and if you're still inclined. Yes?"

She glowered past his ear at the profusely sweating cousin. He was trembling. The fear... she wanted to taste that, bleed it down into her belly, and let it curdle the bagged blood inside. But no. David was her mother's blood. She didn't want to feel the weight of that in her heart.

Blinking, she found she couldn't quite clear her eyes.

"Still grumpy," she mumbled, sheepishly. "I can't make it go away."

"My poor love. Don't let a prick like him spoil your flawless control," Klaus said, trying to hide his amusement with a kiss against her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her, sneaking another one against her throat. At the gentle press, her lashes fluttered. Her teeth rescinded into her gumline, and she could breathe without a growl reverberating in her ears. "You've been doing so well. That's it, love. There we go."

The next kiss on her cheek was observed not only by David, but by Clark.

'Flawless control' snapped.

Caroline took Klaus by the hair and planted her lips to his mouth.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._

This was no hallucination. The lightning that coursed under her skin was all sorts of real and otherworldly, making her eyes roll shut to press her body lengthwise against him. He already had arms around her, but the feel of his fingertips digging into her body made a soft groan of appreciation fill the ravenous chamber of his mouth.

"Oh, god, _Klaus_." The thought of letting him go from the circle of her arms was unbearable, so pressing her forehead to his, her eyes stayed shut until she could get a grip. Though she'd done very little, her chest was heaving against his, and she was trying to breathe slow, and deep. "Impulse control is gone. Out the window. Gone. Finished."

"And why have you been controlling impulses like that?" he said gently, stroking a few fallen strands of her from her brow. His gaze was fully sparkling with something like pride. She wasn't coherent enough to figure out if that was good or bad.

She wet her lips, leaning back enough so her eyes didn't cross to look at him.

"Maybe pesky morals," she admitted. "Maybe worry."

"Worry?" he repeated. His brow came together. "Why worry?"

Usually she would've dodged the question with some kind of change of subject, or alter her answer to blatantly lie to his face. As it was, the part of her brain that wrangled all of her forward thinking was off-line.

"I don't know if I'll be able to stop," she told him softly.

"I wouldn't let you embarrass yourself with all these witnesses," he assured her.

"Not just here, though," she protested. Her breath hitched, and she stared at his mouth. "Forever. I won't be able to stop when we start. You're like blood, to me. I want-"

Leon's innocent voice somehow penetrated her haze. A sluggish brain caught up to her confession, and she blinked, clearing fog from her eyes.

"You want what?" She could see the whites all the way around his iris, his eyes were so wide. He took her hands in his, and nursed them to a gently kissing mouth, but he never looked away. "What? What do you want?"

Mouth opening, she tried to think of something to say, but words weren't coming to mind. A soft breath passed her tongue, and she shut her mouth without a sound. The fingers in his did not want to let him go. She wanted, so badly to tell him. Just say it. No more dancing around the issue.

_I'm in love with you._

_But you love the chase._

_If you catch me, will you get bored?_

Leon poked his head in from the emergency door, a frown on his young face. He was still young enough that he had a soft peach fuzz around his cheeks and jaw, but tall enough that he was gangly and broad. His awkward gait was made all the more noticeable by the rough shove he got in the shoulder by an unseen hand.

"Caroline?" Klaus urged her. Her hands slipped out of his, and she took a step back, followed by another two. "No, no. Come here. Talk to me. What do you want?"

Eyes searching the area around her to avoid seeing his expression, she managed to wipe the awed look off her face in favor of the tried and true cheerleader pep. Planting her fists on her hips, she flashed him a grin, like there hadn't just been a bombshell balanced on the tip of her tongue.

"Text your driver to start filming," she told him brightly. His brow lowered, mouth turning down at the corners at her abrupt shift. "Here are your rules! You can only break one bone apiece. You also can't hit anyone unless they hit you first, and oh! No vampire speed. Only like, ten percent strength. I mean, for an average vampire. Like my version of ten percent. So you can do like two percent strength. Is the math right on that?"

Leon waked over, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey, uh, Caroline," he said sheepish. "Can I borrow Klaus for a minute? My dad wants to talk to him outside."

"Sure!" she chirped. "Give me one second, David can go. You can stay with me! You can tell me about school. Wasn't there a girl? Marissa?"

"Caroline-" Klaus started.

"It's gonna be fun for you," she told him with an obscene (terrified) giggle. She clapped her hands and then grabbed Leon by the hand to drag him into her sphere, linking arms with him. Like somehow he might help protect her from the big bad wolf. "Take my cousin David back with you, and make sure your driver films it!"

"Films what?" Klaus muttered.

Her well-honed smile, stage-ready always, clicked onto place. Her hands smoothed over Leon's sleeve, and she started to walk to the front reception. 

"You'll see," she said lightly. "Remember the rules, okay? Going now. Meet you in the car in like, two seconds!"


	6. A Fight

** Friday, 5:49 pm **

When Caroline later reflected on sending Klaus to seven rude humans, who had assembled for the express purpose of beating him up, she would think: _That was not my brightest idea._

But it had felt - _immensely satisfying_.

"The skull doesn't _count_." Klaus pushed open the door and let her stride into it first, tossing his keys onto the hall table. "You said I could break one bone apiece, and I only broke-"

"The skull is a skull," she lamented, throwing her hands up at him. "It's made of bone, and you know that!"

"The skull's not a bone," he pointed at her meaningfully, swinging the door shut behind him without looking at it. "It's made up of bone plates. I only broke one."

"I told you no brain damage-"

"You told me no brain damage for Bethany, and she was not there." He dropped his pointing finger. "I adhered your rules, you can't be cross with me."

"I'm _not_ cross," she said, actually stamping her heel on the floor.

"You are cross. You told me how I could do it. You didn't say not to."

"I told you that you could have a bone per person! One! Just the one!"

"So I only broke one per person!"

"You broke _all eight noses_! It wasn't just one nose and a bone, you broke eight noses and a skull, and two arms and a leg and-"

"The nose is cartilage," he protested. "It doesn't count."

"It's _a_ bone. It counts, and so do all the fractures!"

"Poppycock. A fracture is a fracture, not a break."

"Do not argue semantics!" she snapped. "You don't eat from a plate with a crack in it - because it's broken! And you gave them all multiple cracks! You know that it counts!"

"At no stage did you limit how much damage I could do outside the bone breaking," he said flatly. "I understood that to mean a proper beating."

"A lesson," she hissed. "So they could still make the wedding in casts and ruin all the photos!"

"I thought so, that's why I kept going with the faces after the arms and legs." He froze. She inflated, gesturing before she could get air in her lungs to get her volume right. His hands lifted to placate her. "Now hang on a minute-"

" _You did it on purpose_!" Her accusing finger poked him in the chest. "The nose COUNTS AS A BONE."

"It doesn't count," he back peddled. "Hang on, the nose doesn't count-"

"You-!"

"Just hang on a bloody minute! Noses don't count as a bone. It's the same thing as an ear."

"If you had've pulled off someone's ear I would've counted it!"

"Ear is not a bone, it's a bloody ear. And I _didn't_ pull any off, and I _could've_ , which frankly is quite an impressive feat, for me."

"The ear _counts_ ," she insisted.

"It wouldn't have broken the ear," he pointed out. "It would've just removed it. That's not breaking a bone, that's ripping off an ear, and still within the parameters of what you gave me."

"Oh my _god._ You had like two rules-!"

"I had four," he said sulkily. "I did a good job to follow them. And yet not so much as a ' _thank you, Klaus, for containing a notorious temper with persons who actively riled me into a murderous state_ '."

"Why did I think it was a good idea to send you unsupervised?" she groaned. Her free hand ran over her head to scoop back the stray hairs that had escaped her bun. "Oh, yeah, the blood. I nearly mauled your poor driver and I didn't even see it. He better be getting paid really, really well."

He grunted, walking away from her toward the kitchen. His shoulders were up, and his hands were in blood smeared fists that made the tendons in his arms pop. She could see the creases in his hands were white with how tightly he was clenching them.

"Hey, I'm not done with you-!" she started hotly, marching after him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting a drink," he said darkly. "Do not get between me and the bar."

" _Hey_." She grabbed his arm, but he didn't even stop his roll to wrench it out of her grasp. "What's your problem?! You got to go postal on a bunch of people! Isn't that what you're usually all about?"

"Don't," he warned. He pressed a button on the counter and the bar slid neatly out in a backlit draw. He selected a glass and bourbon, putting his teeth in the stopper to spit it out onto the bar stool next to him.

"Don't what?" she demanded. She clicked toward him, snagging the glass from his hand to knock it back herself. By the time she'd surfaced, he had started chugging from the neck, eyeing her boldly like he was daring her to try and stop him. " _Ugh_ , whatever."

He popped off, wiping a blazing trail of booze from the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand.

"You know full well _what_ ," he told her, pointing the neck of the bottle at her. "You kissed me."

"Of course I did," she sniffed. She'd had enough time to at least peice together a passing lie in the car, while he told her the extent of the fury he'd unleashed on the idiots in her family who had decided to jump him. "I'm hungry, and you were kissing me first."

"I was not kissing you the way you kissed me!" he barked.

"You did so!" she yelled. "I'm fucking starving and turned on and you kissed me all over my face and down my neck when I was about to rip the lungs out of that misogynist creep-!"

"You _kissed me!_ " He snapped, setting the bottle down hard enough for a crack to zig zag up the glass. It didn't break, but it threatened to. "And you did it like there wasn't enough air in the room, if it didn't come from my mouth!"

"Oh for the love of god, don't flatter yourself! So _what,_ it's been a while and I live in a perpetually horny state when I'm hungry! You knew that when you started to kiss me first!"

"Don't you put your state at my feet, like I had any hand in it!" He was glaring, eyes wide in his rage, the usually full lips pressed into hard white lines. "I wasn't the one who starved you!"

"No, you just know I'm hungry enough to zone out when someone's touching me like they want to fuck me-!"

"DO NOT!" He roared, making her flinch hard. "MAKE IT OUT, THAT I'M A MONSTER FOR PUTTING HANDS ON YOU!"

Her hand cocked back and she lobbed the glass at his head - which he caught. It was especially infuriating, because she'd wanted it to smash on his stupid nose. Show him how a fucking nose counted as a bone, when it was broken!

When the explosion of glass didn't serve her destructive purposes, shoved a stool over on the way past him, aiming for his boot. He moved it, and swung a kick to knock the stool back at the counter.

"I'm such an _idiot_ ," she seethed. "I can't _believe_ I thought this was a good idea. This was a mistake."

Storming out of the kitchen, she zoomed up the stairs to where she'd left her bag in his room. The doors flung open under her shaking hands and broke the plaster where the handles smashed into it. She didn't care.

"I'm not done with you!" came through his gritted teeth, as he stalked toward her and rounded himself directly in her way.

"Move!" She tried to step around him, but he only mirrored her. "Klaus! I'm not joking! Move!"

"What was a mistake, hm?" His severe face made the hair on her arms stand up, instinct making her kind of want to duck her head to the intensity of it. "The part where you asked for my help, or nearly confessing the honesty of what's going on in your head?"

"Move!" Darting to one side, she swiftly faked him out and snatched her bag up, skipping to the bedroom door. She was an inch away from whooshing off, down the stairs, and walking herself home, when he blocked her exit with his arms out and feet planted.

"You think I'm going to let this go without a fight, you've not been paying attention. You said I was like blood, to you. What does that mean?"

"Not! Kidding!" She straight up shoved him in the chest. He didn't even humor her by budging. She bared her fangs and got no rise out of him, so she shoved his chest again. "MOVE!"

"What does it mean, I'm like blood to you?" he repeated, strain making his vocal chords constrict.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" she shrieked. "I'M LEAVING!"

"I'm not going anywhere, and nor are you," he said darkly. "You nearly spoke your truth, I could see it in your eyes-"

Caroline gave him a hard shove in the solar plexus, meaning to wind him. But he was a wall of tense muscle, glaring down with his stomach clenched tight. She shoved him even harder, digging her heels into his floor to get a better base. When that inspired only the change of his eyes, and the firming of his jaw, Caroline made the conscious decision to try and actually hurt him.

She swung back her open palm and aimed it at his proud, flushed cheek.

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?" he bellowed.

Caroline found herself on the floor.

He'd never touched her, rooted in the doorway like a tree. But the sheer volume, and furious intent, made her knees go from under her. For a second, she stared up at him with a dead heart in her throat, a forearm already braced near her face in case he lifted a hand to her.

She saw him falter, for a moment. Then she blinked the fright out of her eyes, pulled herself to her feet, and turned on her heel.

"Caroline." His voice was rough. Still mad. "Where are you going?"

Her nose in the air, she made a beeline for the window.

He blurred in front of it.

"Stop!"

She spun so hard her bag flew in a wide arc and nearly flung itself off her arm. She tried to run for the bedroom door, but he blocked her, hands out, palms up.

"Stop," he implored her, more thickly. "Just stop."

Her brow arched, and she readjusted her bag, tapping her toe on the floor to try and grate on his nerves. The sting of fear did not sit well in her chest, but it had very little to do with Klaus, and more to do with how things ended with Tyler.

"I wouldn't have hit you." His eyes were glassy, and bright blue. His lower lip was shaking. He sucked in a deep breath through his flared nostrils, and made it stop. "You were going to hit me."

Arms crossed around her body tightly. She stared directly into his eyes.

"You've bitten me before," she said sharply. "It isn't something I ever plan on repeating."

"I wasn't going to bite you." His hands dropped to his sides, but immediately went up to try and snag her elbow when she started toward him. "Where are you going?"

"Home," she said, clipped. "I have a wedding to get through, a bitch cousin to wrangle, and dresses to find."

"I'm still with you," he said, more like a demand than a suggestion.

"Like hell," she sneered. "This was the _dumbest_ thing I've ever done. I'm not doing this when I have literally everything else in my life to deal with."

His throat bobbed around a swallow. He seemed to wrestle internally with what he wanted to say, and how it needed to be said. His body was locked, tense, all over, eyes drifting over her face like he was searching for what would best settle the situation. She'd never know why he thought it was appropriate to settle on:

"The nose counts as a bone."

She blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"The nose. Counts." He gave a frown of epic proportions. "I'll send someone to heal them at the hospital later."

The... actual... _fuck_.

With a glare she hoped singed the hair from his eyebrows, she turned sharply and slammed the bathroom door behind her, swiping the lock into place. It was not going to do much, but it was not the point that he was kept out by the lock; it was that he heard it.

Shutting the toilet lid, she took a seat and crossed her legs, vibrating with energy. Some angry, some a little spooked by the shouting. But the real fear, that was coming from the place that he was going to act like a dog with a bone about what she'd said, about him being like blood, to her.

 _I crave you_ , echoed in her mind. _I need you._

The sweat on her thumb didn't want to work on unlocking her phone, so she swiped her code in and started idly scrolling through her social medias. There was already a plethora of back-handed mentions on Bethany and Aunt Linda's pages, and when she went to check Amilla's, she saw that she'd posted an old high school photo of Caroline with a cartoon pacifier over the mouth, and two devil horns on her head.

Bethany had written: lol what edit????

Caroline _very carefully_ locked the screen and _very gently_ set it aside on the rim of the tub. It crossed her mind to get in the bath and try and relax, but she wasn't ready to move from her position of high-handed sulking on the porcelain throne.

Her hand drifted mindlessly to her stomach. The hunger inside her wasn't solely related to her belly, any more, but the habit to touch it in reference to her hunger pains hadn't left.

In the back of her mind, she knew that leaving her feeding for so long was a grade A bad idea. But she really hadn't meant it. With finishing school, coping with her mom's passing, trying to learn how to vampire properly and the clusterfuck that had been Tyler... She had barely had enough time for things in her life that she enjoyed, and eating was just part of that. Bonnie, Matt and Elena had taken a backseat, and it had been an age since she'd even seen Damon or Stefan.

The soft grumble of Klaus' voice made her ears prick up, but he was being too quiet, and too distant, for her to get the whole of the sentences. She heard her name, and the word 'fight'. She heard him say something about impulse. There were several pauses, a grunt, and then a very quiet promise to keep someone updated.

Her nose was in the air and face impassive when he knocked on the door.

"The blood bags are here," he said tightly.

"Leave them at the door."

The handle squealed when he turned it, breaking the lock. He stood in the open door with his intense gaze fixed on her nervously bopping foot, slung over her opposite knee.

"I'm not your lapdog," he told her.

"Obviously. I _like_ dogs."

An unwilling hand released the handle of the door, leaving a perfect pattern of the grooves of his fingers. He leaned his shoulder to the frame and made himself look bored and carefree, when she knew by the tilt of his brow that it was all a facade.

"I don't much care if you like me," he said coolly. "You're going to get your arse down the stairs and drink that blood. If you still want to leave when you're full, then I will have someone drive you home."

"I'm going," she said flatly. "Without the blood. I don't need your charity."

"Nonsense. It's not charity. I just don't want to hear all the moping and whining when you undoubtedly kill someone."

"I have blood at home."

"You are not leaving this house without feeding first," he said dangerously. "If your charming cousin decides to show up to your house with you being this hungry, you will kill her."

"Maybe I want to," she snapped. "Maybe I'm an evil bitch and I should just fucking act like it already and pull out a few spleens."

"By all means," he mocked. "Join the club."

Her eyes went to her phone, buzzing lamely on the tub. It was Aunt Linda. Caroline had the sudden, obnoxious urge to dig fangs into her scalp and rip off her head, peeling the top layer back like a banana.

With a shudder, she snatched her phone and stood up.

"One bag."

"Two, and if you think I won't compel you, I'm telling you now. I will." He swung aside and let her pass.


	7. Hungry Eyes

Sucking the straw of her third bag, she slumped heavily in the lounge and watched the plastic began to touch at the sides. She had to, because the alternative was looking at Klaus, who was too casually stirring the last mouthful of blood into his bourbon on the other end of the couch.

"Better?" he asked the side of her head.

She gave a sheepish nod.

Her tongue traced the blood on her lips. At least she could surface, now, to breathe. The entire time her fangs had been buried in the first bag, she had gulped it down without being able to wait for a straw. The blood had spilled down her wrists and dripped onto the floor - before she could set upon it, Klaus had shoved the next bag into her hands, steering the already plugged straw between her lips.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome. Now. I sent my people to the hospital. The people at the dance hall who tried to fight me are all healed," he mentioned. "I've had all the memories of the fiasco wiped, barr the fact that they were beaten mercilessly and easily. They're all dully afraid of me now. I should hope that means they will extend at least passing politeness to you."

"Thanks," she echoed.

"You're welcome," he said, and sipped his concoction. "Are you still going to leave?"

She shook her head, and plucked at the front of her dress, which was damp with blood. The end of her straw got shoved into her mouth real quick, and she managed to give him a side-eye.

"Good."

A beat.

"I'm sorry," she said. "About... going to hit you."

"You were starving," he said shortly.

"That's not an excuse." Her eyes went down to the soaked front of her dress, and the lines of blood drying on her arms. "I don't want to hurt you, Klaus. I just-... I wasn't sure you were going to let me leave."

He didn't say anything for a moment.

"It was a little more than that," he accused quietly. "I backed you into a corner you weren't able to sass your way out of. I knew you were weak to me. I pushed. I knew I was doing it."

Even if he'd asked her to, she couldn't look at him. If he was going to push her, she would just get up and leave.

"Do you still want to do this?" she asked her bag, voice very small.

"Do you still want me to?"

A fortifying gulp of blood washed down her throat.

"I can't do it alone. I don't want to. I won't be able to make myself."

"Then I will stand with you."

"Good, because now that we took all the attention away from Bethany with the perfect dancing and the fist fight, she's gonna get nasty."

"Let her, and be nastier."

"No, I have to be the bigger person, at least a little bit. Mom wanted me to break the cycle."

"Ah, of course." The fully agreeable tone should've made her suspicious. Instead, what clued her in was the absolutely shit-eating grin that flashed beside her, making her lift shy eyes to his mouth.

"What is that face?" She asked, somewhat timidly. "What are you plotting?"

He just continued to grin, maniacal.

"Do you want to watch the video?"

See, what she should've said was 'no'. Emphatically. Her intelligent brain was like: _'you should not enjoy all your cousins and two of your uncles getting beat up by one guy in the car park of a dance studio, this is twisted and gross, don't feed the baby vamp'._

But then her mouth popped open and said:

"Can you hook it up to the projector?"

"I can, if you observe the rules you've already set in place."

Her head tilted slightly.

"What rules? I only gave you rules. I haven't put any on me."

"Yes you did," he mused, flicking his eyes down at her bloody front. Too slowly, he dragged his attention to the soft rise of her breasts, and the smooth slope of her belly, settling on where the skirt clung to her naked sex with wet fabric.

"Boyfriends don't leer like that at their girlfriends," she pointed out.

"You've never seen me with a girlfriend." He tipped his phone and showed her the lock screen, but there was nothing there. "Oh, my. Would you look at that?"

"What?" Blinking, she took a look at the screen. The cover was some over lapping lines in blue, yellow and red, each contrasting in the same egg-shaped face to create three distinctly different faces. "It's nice, a I guess? What's it got to do with me?"

"Not the picture." His eyes lingered over her. "What's the time?"

"6:23?" Her brow started to lower. Confused, she thought about what he could possibly mean - what rule she had mentioned, that he was willing to enforce? But then it clicked.

No bras after 6:00pm.

He snickered.

"I'll put the video on the screen, but you should abide the rules or I might not press play."

Her tongue snaked out and wet her lip, a cheeky smile winding up on her mouth.

"Well, I guess. It's your house," she said, laying the blood bag over her lap to reach behind and under her dress and unclip the closure beneath the fabric. It didn't matter that she could do it all without having to take her clothes off - the blood that soaked her chest was wet, and cold, and made her nipples stick out.

She sort of tossed the bra aside and settled back into the cushions, feeling his gaze on her. With a coy little flutter of her lashes, she looked at him.

He wasn't straight up looking at her boobs, which was a surprise. There was something ultimately pleased about him regardless, something simmering under his skin that made his lips curl at one smug corner of his mouth.

Legs open, shoulders relaxed, he cocked the arm closest to her over the back of the couch and tipped his head forward, the light from the massive screen making his eyes shadowed.

"Are you comfortable?" he mused.

"Yup!" She injected as much pep as she could to avoid sounding any version of embarrassed or flustered. Giving him an inch would unravel her pretty fast, and she no longer had the excuse of blaming her desiccating hallucinations.

But with so much blood in her veins, his particular attention, and the grating feel of a cooling wet dress on her skin... she was kinda getting turned on any way.

"Would you like a drink?" he prompted innocently. "Before we begin? The duration of the movie itself doesn't take long, of course, but you had a plan earlier about home, and a bourbon, and then the movie."

"I was also supposed to get a shower in there," she pointed out. She thought about arching her back and making a show of yawning, but the threat of what he might do or say with her reaction to the scrape of her dress made her knees press together. "And you suggested the pool."

"I did not," he retorted lightly. "That was all you."

"Was not."

"Was too. And you were naked in that suggestion, if I recall."

"Skinny dipping isn't naked, it's swimming," she said primly. Before he could further argue the point, she folded an arm over her belly and pretended to inspect her nails. "Yes, I'd like a drink, please."

"Do you have a preference for ratio?" Getting up off the couch, he sort of sauntered to the bar.

"Ratio?" Turning, she was mindful not to get blood on the head rest. She had a great view of his butt in those jeans. She wished they were just a little bit tighter.

"Hm. Bourbon and blood." The bar slid out of the counter and she flicked her eyes back up to his face before he turned to see her ogling. "You don't mix your blood?"

"I didn't think it was like, a thing. I mean, I've drank from people who are drunk and I like that." She eyed him selecting a bottle, weighing it in his hand. "Oh, and that one guy who was high."

An eyebrow cocked at her, a slow smirk winding on his lip.

"Drugs affect the blood more so than drink," he cautioned. "And amplified within us yet again. Did you have a pleasant experience?"

"It was... Memorable." The guy hadn't seemed high, she had thought he was just drinking. The night had been super weird, and she had been passingly grateful Stefan had come in clutch to figure out what had happened. "I kind of believed I was a cat for a few hours."

Snickering, he measured out a pour of amber, stuck a stirrer in it, and walked to crouch behind the sunken lounge, plucking her blood bag from her lap. He squirted a little inside and clicked the inside of the rim with the stick a few times, then lifted it to her lips.

"Try that."

Her tongue had already curled around the end of the offered stirrer before she thought about how potentially sexy it might have been.

It was nice. Like, really good.

Humming, she gathered her skirt and turned on her knees to square up to him, feeling her hunger curl in her belly.

"I think I'm still hungry," she murmured.

"That's alright. We have more than enough for you to indulge, and I've got more on the way for tomorrow from my personal supply," he assured her, watching her lips. He gave another stir. "Do you like it?"

"Mmhm." Holding her skirt in her hands had pulled it up to bare a lot of her thighs, and the way she was kneeling made the cushions sink and part her legs a little more than strictly necessary. (What? She didn't want to get blood on the couch. She was being a good guest.) "It's really good. Why did you bring in your personal supply?"

"The resources around here are surprisingly lacking, given that so few vampires live here." There was something a little off with his volume. He was quiet, and his eyes were sort of shuttered. "Unless there's more lurking that I don't know about?"

"No. Just the usual suspects." She hesitated, sort of, wiggling in anticipation. "So, are you, uh, gonna make me ask to have my drink now, or?"

The very barest tip of his tongue wet the seam of his mouth, and he studied her face all over.

"I was just considering how best to introduce you to new ratios." The statement which should have been innocent, was not coming out of his wolfish throat that way. A shiver licked down her spine, and her loosely fisted hands went tight on her gathered skirt. If she pressed that skirt to the apex of her legs and let him see... that was her business. He didn't comment. "I think... and this is speaking from experience, of course-"

"Of course," she found herself saying mindlessly.

Woah, she'd been like, staring at his mouth super hard. Dragging her eyes up to his seemed like a chore, but he didn't notice where she was looking because he was fully committed to watching her hands and the slow gyrating of her hips, which was... not a thing she had been aware she was doing.

"When indulging with blood and liquor, it's best to know what would better serve your... To serve you best..." Distracted, he stopped talking and tilted his head at her. She'd never seen him lose a train of thought before, and it made her feel giddy with power. "I want you to experience all the things I know, as they best serve you. I want to show you the pleasures of... life."

"With bourbon?" she murmured.

He nodded.

"Bourbon is well and good for most - appetites, but the amount of blood can alter the state of your... experience." He was very, very distracted. "I want to know what you like best. But to do that, we need to experiment."

A swollen black vein pulsed under his eye and she found her thighs going tense, trying to shut on the ghost of his attention. Finally, he looked up to her, stupidly hansom, totally encompassed in only her.

It was delicious.

Honestly? If he kissed her? Surged forward and tried to taste the blood in her mouth? She was going to lose her entire fucking mind.

The rasp of her dress on her breasts and the pulse of fabric at her crotch made her sink her teeth into her lip.

His eyes flashed with the wolf sewn just beneath his skin, and she exhaled through her nose shakily.

There were dangerous words ready to blurt out of her mouth, and she could see he wouldn't just give in - there would be something more to it, something deeper, hungrier, than just indulging a horny house guest.

Like he was approaching a vicious viper, he dipped his forefinger into the blood and swirled it around. Always watching her face, he lifted the digit from the glass between them, considering her thoughtfully over it.

"From skin..." His adam's apple bobbed. "It can taste different again."

 _You're turned on_ , she realized, seeing red flush under his cheeks. She really, really badly wanted to look down and see if he was any kind of hard, but her eyes fixed to the finger in front of her. A drip of ruby had pooled in the soft dip of his knuckle and threatened to follow the path of one of the pronounced veins in his hand.

That wouldn't do.

Lapping kittenishly at the spill, she watched from under her lashes at the flash of gold that lit his iris. This time, it stayed there, marking him as more instinct than gentleman. She took her time to curl her tongue around the tender inside of his finger, tasting the offered drink on his skin.

He was right. It did taste different on him. He was the better option.

He was also gonna ruin her for other men.

One of her hands latched to his wrist and she turned his palm so that when she sucked the entire length into her mouth, it curved neatly over her tongue. She pulled off to get the worse of the mess gone, then returned it to her mouth to lave at the remnants more leisurely.

The veins under his eyes made her give his finger a harder pull that caused his mouth to pop open for more air. She suckled until there was no more blood, and barely any booze. Only Klaus remained, and she could feel his pulse in the veins trapped under her lips.

Pulling off, she found herself clutching his arm pretty tight. The fist against her crotch was no longer holding any skirt. Just cupped around her sensitive mound, tingling with the slight rub she was giving it.

If he had've been any version of arrogant or mocking she would've been supremely embarrassed, but he was just in a state of awe. It made her feel kinda godly. Like there was nothing she could do to make him see her as less than perfect.

"Klaus," she said. Her voice was low. She was extraordinarily turned on. But where did they go from here? Did she want to pursue him like this? "I think I'm blood high."

"Yes," he said, only barely above a whisper. It was so unlike him. Her jaw was aching with the need for her fangs to come out. She'd taken his blood before, but this was different. This felt possessive, of marking him, of making him vulnerable and hers. "I realized just now. I'll... stop."

"What are you doing, that you need to stop?" Through her thickly churning brain, she realized that if he walked away from her in that moment, she was going to _actually bite him_. She was going to make it _hurt_. A part of her brain didn't want that, so she unlatched the hand on her crotch and put it around the lower half of his forearm. "Stay here."

"I'm not leaving," he murmured. His eyes dropped to her mouth. "Are you still hungry, love?"

Fucking famished. But the ravenous urges in her were no longer solely for blood, or booze. She wanted those things, but she wanted them pooled in the dip of his bellybutton.

Words failed where she clearly wanted to speak. She'd been blood high before - a state vampires achieved after a really, really good feed - but this was not the same as the other time, when she got all fidgety.

She pulled on his arm and rolled back onto her ass, completely unbothered by the open invite of her knees. The glass dropped to the floor and he went where she directed, over the back of the couch and sinking on top of her with half lidded eyes.

Her ankles crossed behind his legs. One arm hooked over his shoulder and brought him down closer, aligning their hearts, while the other slithered over his ribs and smoothed over the dip in his lower spine to find his ass.

"Get better fitting jeans," she demanded.

An eyebrow ticked.

"You were looking well enough earlier." A gentle trace of his finger on her brow bone made her eyes roll shut. "You like the look of me, don't you?"

"Mm." Head tilting back, he followed the outside shape of her face to her sensitive throat, and her legs tightened around him. "I'd like it more if you didn't dress like you don't know what a tailored suit looks like."

"I'll endevour to change that." His hand cupped her face. "Do us both a favor, sweetheart, and unhook your legs."

" _No_." At the suggestion, she tightened them. Felt him nurse his hardness against her crotch. Purred and shifted her hips a little, curving her spine to feel the drag of her breasts on the wall of his chest. "Klaus... you can't go anywhere right now."

"I'm not going to go anywhere," he promised. "But I think it's best if you let me have an inch of room that isn't filled with temptation."

"Tempting you to do what?" she goaded. Stroking her hand up to his hair, she threaded her fingers through and gave a small pull, eyeing the length of his throat. "God. I'm starving."

"My poor love," he said quietly. "So hungry for so long. You've kept yourself so strictly held. You're a tower of patience, sweetheart."

Praise was always a form of a drug to her, and his made her blood thrum.

She pulled him down and got her lips around his throat for the very barest of seconds, only barely thrusting her hips against him-

The doorbell rang and a obnoxious knock at the front door made her growl low in her throat, vibrating the skin under her tongue. She actually felt the ripple of his pleasure coursing over him, cresting with goosebumps and a particularly hard throb of his pulse.

She knew it was her family because she could hear the voices.

Complaining. Gossiping. Jealous and petty.

Her flat teeth latched into his skin in warning. It wasn't clear why exactly he wasn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything, but she just knew it was wholly important to her that he did not leave her.

Though he was keeping mostly well behaved, when she flicked the bitten skin with her tongue there was a jolt of his body that she liked. She did it again, squeezing his ass when he didn't give the reaction she had wanted.

"Not long now," he said, grumpy and strained.

Although she wanted to inquire what he was talking about, it wasn't as important as focusing on her teeth. Unlatching, she felt her fangs slide out. Though she desperately wanted to plunge them into his neck - claim her King, make him hers - the part of her brain not acting solely on impulse made her scrape them along his artery instead, breathing hotly on the wet site she'd made.

God, he was so like blood to her. Addictive. And tasty. And so completely necessary. It was like, she could abstain from blood (Klaus), because she was a decent person and she had self control as long as she wasn't presented with an open wound (or that ass) in close proximity.

Slowly, she found her mouth moving over him, teeth very carefully teasing the skin. He was hard as a rock all over, letting her explore with her tongue and fangs, giving her ultimate trust to bare his throat under her insistent mouth.

Whoever was outside banged loudly on the door. Like they were kicking it.

"You'd better..." She slurred.

Puffing slightly, she blinked and steered him up by the fistful of hair in her hand.

He was golden eyed and flushed, hungrily gazing down at her.

Even though it was a very bad idea, she squeezed him tight with her thighs to see his face morph into one of pure rapture. It did some legwork to soothe the part of her that very badly didn't want to let him deal with her family.

With one last squeeze of his ass, she unlinked her legs and set them aside, licking her lips.

"Okay." It was like she was giving him permission. Like she could've stopped him if he had really wanted to leave. "I'm going to have a shower."

Pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek, he nodded softly, burying his nose against the hinge of her jaw.

"Make it cold," he suggested hotly against her throat. "It'll help bring you out of the high a little faster."

Uncurling her fingers from his hair was hard when the instinct in her was to use the grip to steer him where she wanted his mouth. Feeling his stubble on her shoulder was making her body move in search of friction, and she pressed her lips to the side of his head, then his cheek, letting her other arm relax enough to slide from his shoulders to the cushions.

"Blood highs are so weird," she grumbled.

He sat back a little, glittering eyes full of heat. It was only when his hand gently wrapped around hers, that she realized it was still buried in his hair.

"It's alright," he mused, though it wasn't at all teasing. "I've seen worse. Are you a little less predisposed to sinking your teeth into me if I go deal with the heathens attacking my door?"

"Depends," she found her wayward mouth retorting. "Would you mind if I did?"

That flash of gold was gonna be the death of her.

"One day you're going to tell me if you mind an audience or not," he told her firmly. "And when I know-"

"WE CAN SEE THE LIGHTS ON," came waspishly from behind the front door. "IF YOU DON'T GET HERE IN THIRTY SECONDS WE'RE GONNA CALL BETHANY!"

Caroline lowered her lashes. Lifted a heavy hand to his jaw, and stroked the stubble.

"If you hurt them I'll be mad," she said simply. "But a little fear won't hurt. You're also gonna have to be the better person and get off of me, because I kinda still don't want you to go."

"The better person?" He snickered. "A rare title, for me."

"Not to me," she retorted, and watched the comment sink into his brain as he slowly withdrew from her space. She didn't look directly at his zipper - she didn't need to. The edges of her vision confirmed his heavy hardness and she licked her lips as her looked up at him.

"Cold shower," he reminded her. He ran a hand over his mouth as his eyes traveled the length of her, laid pliant and inviting on his couch. Her skirt was all rucked up, barely covering her panty line. It got a very long look. "Have I ever told you that you've got the most gorgeous legs?"

"TEN SECONDS!" shrieked someone outside. They were talking about drugs, and how they were probably too scared to open the door, and to check if there was a dog on the property to pass back to Aunt Linda.

All it did was make Caroline point her toes and stretch out luxuriously, arching her back like a pinup. Faking a dainty little yawn behind her fingertips, she rose into sitting, watching his eyes snap to the part of her legs as she deliberately spread them to get one foot on the floor before the other.

"Cold shower," she agreed, giving his chest a quick, consoling pat.


	8. King (and Queen) Size Bed

** Friday, Bedtime. **

“I did not know we could get that high,” she said, climbing into the bed. In her candy pyjamas, the ones with the pink and white striped shorts and the cute t-shirt with cupcakes on it, she felt exactly like a bunny about to be gobbled up by the big bad wolf with the way his eyes lingered on her legs. "Like, I've been blood high before, but not like that."

"You've probably never been half desiccated before either," he pointed out. "How hungry you are before the feed matters."

"I kinda got a little bit grabby." Clearing her throat, she pulled back the covers and climbed up onto the mattress.

"That kind of high tends to manifest in two physical ways," he said simply, leaving the subject fairly untouched. "Lust or fury. Most tend to lean into violence, but it makes sense that you are not one of them."

"The last time I got twitchy and laughed a lot," she admitted. "I mean, I didn't think I was hungry, hungry, like enough to be desiccating. I only realized how bad it was when we were in the car yesterday and I peaced out on you. The dance... that made it worse, and then we were fighting-"

"That fight was my fault," he admitted. "I shouldn't have tried to push you."

"It wasn't," she assured him. "I tried to hit you. That isn't right."

He put his phone on charge by the bed and rubbed his eyes.

“No, it isn't. But it also wasn't you. I knew you weren't wholly your best self and I perused you after dealing with such an awful amount of fury."

"I wasn't furious," she said petulantly.

"You were from the dance, and then from me hurting your family, and then for having to argue with me. Besides. You have fury in you, love, written in the line of your marrow," he informed her, surfacing blearily from behind his hands. "And so you should. My temper, Caroline, has never been tested by so many people doing _absolutely nothing_ , before. How you’ve handled your family before now is completely beyond me.”

“I was a human who couldn't hear everything, before. And I had my mom. She had training in strategies for my stressors,” she reminded him. She fluffed a pillow and laid into it, looking over at him while she reached up to gather her hair into a bun. “How did the stuff at the front door go? What did they want?"

"To color match one of the necklaces with the bridesmaid dresses," he drawled. "They couldn't tell me why it had to be right now. I put the fear of God in them all, don't you worry about them further speaking against your name. They think you and I are high class mafia."

"Are you not high class mafia?"

"Not currently," was too casual a reply not to get a laugh. He cocked a smirk in her direction, sinking more comfortably into his side of the bed.

"Well, for what it's worth, you handled the rest of them pretty well,” she acknowledged.

“I was an inch away from snapping at most times,” he admitted.

"I never noticed."

"That's because you were kept occupied by also riding the edge of that particular knife, love," he said.

“Well... Yeah." Was she going to bring up all the perfect dancing, and the kissing, that had definitely distracted her? Absolutely not. But she was thinking about it, loudly. A blessing she'd already figured out he couldn't read minds.

"Linda's other daughter caught me on the way out of the fight," he said.

"Oh," Caroline said. "Nancy."

"Yes, Nancy," he said with derision. "She asked me how much you'd paid me."

"Ignore it," she muttered.

"She followed it up with asking if I had a service, or other blokes, who she could pay to do the same." He shifted, rubbing the back of his knuckles. "Very sad little corner of the world she comes from, isn't it?"

"Nancy is doing what it takes to survive her side of the family,” she defended lightly. "Hiring someone like you would solve a lot of her problems. I mean, I was lucky I even had a _you_ to bring along." 

“With a mother like Linda, and a sister like Bethany, I am not at all surprised,” he grouched, and put his arms down by his sides. That stillness lasted all of about seven seconds before he threw his hands up again, making a gruff noise. “And if your bloody grandfather won’t keep his questions about you procreating to himself-!”

“He’s old,” she protested.

“That’s no excuse,” he said flatly. “I’ve been _old_ a lot longer than he has, and I have never been so accusatory to demand the reason a woman has never been pregnant – and then in the same breath ask if she had miscarried! He asked three different people, while we were dancing! Three! What could he possibly get out of knowing if you and I were having trouble falling with child?”

“Bragging rights,” she said, because he was kind of outraged and needed to vent. Even a shower hadn’t cooled him down – she could see by the faint light of the digital clock that his face was flushed, and he was actively scowling.

“And Clark is _nothing_ like Elijah,” he went on. “He’s the most boring sod on the face of this earth!”

“He does love Bethany though,” she said.

“His one redeeming factor is that he’s smitten with a girl that vile?” he scoffed. “Pathetic. He’s only interested in her to look good on his arm; she won’t last the minute she hits thirty. And she’s interested in his Rolex before anything else that he is. Which is nothing. Because he’s so _lame_. Even his interest in you waned, and I was actively trying to goad the man.”

She watched him, huffing there in the dark, glaring up at the ceiling.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I don't make a habit of cursing the plebeians like this regularly,” he said testily. “I thought this would be a far sight easier than you made it out to be. But now I must endure _them_ , and the way they speak around you, and their horrible little comments designed only to undermine you as a person, while they pretend like they’re so holier than thou for imagined successes.”

“What were you expecting?” she mused.

“To be with you,” he said, letting out a frustrated noise. “To put you in pretty dresses, and have you on my arm, and spend this weekend making you forget about one horrible bridezilla. I didn’t expect to spend it seething in hatred.”

She thought about that for a moment, considering her options. She was tired – it took a lot out of her, to be belittled and ignored. And apparently the entire family had been worded up about Klaus and his wealth, because they had been texting and sending messages about stupid questions all the night through.

“And I had a freak out and almost took a shot at your face. Let's not forget that," she said quietly. "I’m really sorry that I did it. I'm also sorry this weekend already sucks for you.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, still sounding annoyed.

“But it does suck,” she pointed out.

“I’d rather be here with you, than anywhere else,” he said abruptly. “And now knowing what they’re like? I wouldn’t leave anyone with them. Not even my most hated enemy deserves the special kind of horrible they are. Fancy saying behind their hands that you needed to have your career sorted out because your mother had at your age? Do they understand that you are not your mother?”

“No,” she said.

“And half that room hadn’t even finished college - not that it makes a person, because God knows I never could sit still that long - but how dare they speak to your academia when they have not completed their own under less strenuous circumstance? Let alone done anything considered _productive_. I don’t know where they get off making you their favorite topic of conversation but they have absolutely _no right_ to speak to -”

She stuck her cold toes against his calf and he cut off. When he looked down under the covers, she scooted a little closer, nudging his leg up to insert hers beneath the hollow of his knee. She sighed at the warmth, and shut her eyes to avoid having to see his expression.

“Are you going to sleep?” she whispered. “Because we have to be up early tomorrow. To go help with setting up.”

“I don’t want you to go and help her,” he said. “I’ll send my help for a few hours in your stead. Please don’t argue with me. If I’m made to lift heavy things with your uncles and cousins I’ll likely destroy something.”

“I mean…” She cracked open an eye. He had linked his fingers on his chest, and was softer, his tense calf going lax under her foot. “I don’t want her to take advantage of anyone.”

“I’ll give strict instructions to work only for two hours or so,” he said. “Three at the most.”

“If she says anything racist, sexist, or mean to them, they have to leave immediately,” she said softly. "Make it clear we do not tolerate cruelty."

“Yes. Fine. Good,” he said, and relaxed a fraction more. “The less you see her, the better. What are we doing tomorrow?”

“Well,” she said lightly, inching just a touch closer. Their legs were all tangled, and his opened his knees to let her lay claim to one, using it as an anchor to pull herself over. Her hands remained under her pillow, where she usually put them to go to sleep, but there was a part of her that wanted to reach for his bicep, and curl around the heat of it. “Now that I'm not going to help with the setup? Breakfast. Then we can go get a dress for the rehearsal dinner, and then the wedding. You have suits here, right?”

“Yes,” he murmured.

“I was thinking we could get something that matched.”

“Alright.” His voice was warmer than she’d ever heard it.

Laying in the dark, with legs all twisted and wrapped around, relaxing after a long day, it was very easy for Caroline to understand her feelings. She didn’t like what she discovered, but there wasn’t a lot she could do about it…

She loved him.

The possession, the fury, the wit, the lust. Everything in him called to her. She was so safe she was already starting to feel sleepy and calm.

“Hey,” she said. “I said it before, but I mean it - I really missed you.”

She heard him swallow.

“I missed you,” he admitted, staring only at the roof.

She felt better for having him say it. When she had told him that earlier and he hadn’t replied in kind, she had suspected that he might have changed his tune on her. Knowing that he was here, with her, for the sole purpose of helping her out of family drama, made her heart swell two sizes too big.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, putting his hands over his face. “Your bloody grandfather is on repeat in my head.”

Caroline tried to smother a laugh, but it wouldn’t be tampered with – she pushed her face into her pillow and actively his it from his lightening scowl. It was somewhere beyond her giggles that she felt him truly relax, hands back down on the bed. His hand was so close to her knee that she could feel the heat of it, even through the covers.

“It’s really not that bad,” she tried to tell him around her mirth.

“Yes it is,” he muttered, and sighed. “I suppose it’ll be all done in a few days’ time.”

"Exactly. Just lay back and think about all the things you could do if I wasn't obeying my mom's wishes to play nice with the humans."

"Perhaps the thought of violence will lull me into a better mood."

"You can only try."

They lapsed into a small quiet.

Caroline never shut her eyes, preferring to study the rise and fall of Klaus' chest. Even though they were hardly touching, the proximity felt intimate. Just laying in a bed with him was foreign, a peek of his vulnerability. It filled her head with pretty ideas about him. How would he sleep? On his back, on his side? Would he cuddle against her in the night, or would he curl into a ball on his side?

A sudden twinge of jealousy reared its ugly head. How many other girls had known him like she had yet to know him?

 _I bet_ they _didn't get screwed within an inch of their life on a forest floor_ , she thought miserably. _I bet they got the pricey sheets and champagne thing._

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her, his voice a rumble in his chest.

When she looked up from his soft breathing, he was already watching her. She wondered how long he had been doing that.

"Nothing important," she said, maybe a touch too coolly. She committed to the idea of trying to ignore all these new feelings in her chest; of wanting to know him more intimately than she did. It wouldn't work. It couldn't. Could it? "I'm just grumpy."

"You're still hungry," he observed.

"I know, I know," she huffed, scooting onto her back, and then over onto her other side. Since she was struggling to keep her eyes off of him, turning her face in the opposite direction seemed like the best possible idea. "I would feel a lot fuller for a lot longer if I drank from the vein. You have staff that'll compensate on call, but I'm still not drinking from humans, so you can stop offering."

"I was going to say that you can take it from me," he drawled. "To tide you over. Until breakfast."

A warm fingertip landed on her arm. Goosebumps exploded from the site, and every hair stood on end as he delicately traced down to her elbow. It was such an innocent caress, but loaded with such filthy promises.

Caroline felt like she wasn't getting enough air. Her mouth popped open and she breathed as quietly as she could, feeling the gentle slide of his finger edge back up to her shoulder and then up to her throat, landing on her pulse.

"Uh-!" she said. Her heart throbbed, and she knew he felt it. "I can wait."

"Why?"

Why?

Why what?

What were they talking about?

"Uh-..." The finger was electric. He shifted in the bed and got a little closer, trailing his touch down to her elbow again. Blood? Was he talking about blood? Like putting her lips around his throat and - "No! No thanks. No, I'm good. It's fine. I can wait."

"You don't have to." The maddening touch of him came off of her skin. She sucked in a calming breath, and smelt only him in his expensive sheets. "It would be the very least I could do, as your host."

She swallowed a hard mouthful.

"No thanks," she said again. It pitched weirdly in the middle. Fuck. "I'm good. We should get some sleep."

"If that's what you want, I'll oblige."

She felt the barest brush of his mouth on her shoulder, and couldn't curb the urge to reach back and find his hand in the darkness.

Caroline wasn't even sure if he'd be down to cuddle, what with his big bad lone wolf thing he had going on.

But when she pulled his arm around her waist he settled behind her like he'd been made to fit, leaving the crook of his elbow around the dip in her waist. It was her that scooted back, made his lap her seat.

"Is this okay?" she asked timidly.

"Yes," he murmured. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," she agreed quickly. "Yeah, I'm good. Is my hair bothering you?"

"No." He was actively rubbing it with his face and nose, so she conceded he was probably telling the truth. Tyler had refused to spoon her because of her hair.

"I can put it up in a bun?"

"I don't mind it," he assured her. He shifted somehow closer, the heat of his breath curling under her ear.

"If it's getting annoying, just wake me up and I'll tie it out of the way," she went on.

"Caroline," he said softly. "I like your hair down. I know it's in my face. I like it that way."

She swallowed.

"Oh okay."

Even though it was Klaus, and she was some version of turned on and he was being really, devastatingly sweet, she was actually so tired. Like, she was acutely aware of every point they were touching, and the thump of his heart against her back, but it was also extraordinarily comfortable.

 _I'm so safe right now_.

"Good night," she whispered.

"Good night, love."

 _I love you,_ she thought at him, and shut her eyes. _I'm so safe right now. You're so good to me. Only for me._

_You're my King._

_I want to be your Queen._


	9. In Here, With Me

** Saturday, Redic o'clock **

An unfortunate side-effect of having been born an early riser meant that Caroline was wide awake the second her body decided it was time to be AwakeTM. She blinked open her eyes to find herself staring at the back of a curl at the nape of Klaus' neck. Her nose was smushed up against his shoulder and there was absolutely no pretenses about how much she was full-body clinging to him.

His breathing was long and deep under her hand, the pauses for air to settle into his lungs long enough to feel death-like. At first, she lay spooned behind him with no thought at all to the implications of their cuddling. It was just, like, really nice.

He smelt good. Great, even.

She butted her nose higher and inhaled against the back of his neck, pulling that breath deep into her lungs. Humming, she tightened her arms around his waist and felt his fingers squeeze her own, linked in his.

A surge of hunger invaded her senses. Her fangs extended quick enough that a white flash of pain pressed against her lids. For a moment, she thought about sinking her teeth into him without comment or build up. He had offered, after all.

She gave the tenderest of kisses to that curl on the back of his head, shifting onto her elbow to do it. The thought of his blood in her mouth made her teeth pool with ravenous saliva. She bent her head and pressed her lips to the scratchy line of his throat.

"Go on," he rumbled. His eyes didn't even open. "Bite."

She spooked. Tried to disengage her hand from his, but he held it tighter, tucking her more firmly around him. She went, weak to his silent demand. The struggle was mostly for show, because her idiot mouth went back to his throat and kissed it again.

"No," she said slowly. "I shouldn't."

"You can," he murmured.

"I shouldn't..." she told herself, and sucked a lingering kiss at his pulse. The thud of it quickened under her pulling mouth, and she dug her nails into his chest. "Klaus, I really shouldn't..."

"You're going to do something stupid when we square off at your family if you aren't kept whole and fed."

"No I won't," she promised him.

"But you'll have me do it," he teased. "You know I'll slaughter the masses in your name if you so much as bat your lashes, hm?"

For a moment, he cracked open an eye, turning his head to squint over his shoulder at her. His smile kicked up on one side once he saw her guiltily eyeing his neck, his fangs extended and eyes black as sin.

"I'm sorry," she offered.

"Don't you dare apologize to me for your hunger," he said sternly. "When you've kept it so strictly in line in all the time you've had it." He shifted, keeping her claw to his heart as he turned to his back. Their legs tangled.

"I can go," she told him, dazed. She wet her lips. "If you let my hand go, I can walk away. Have a glass of water instead."

His mouth twisted. Though he didn't speak to that, she guessed what he might have to say about substituting her hunger with water.

"Come now, love," he urged, tilting his head to the side. He stole a kiss from her cheek, and then her shoulder, so near to his mouth. "I'll heal before the sun even comes up."

Her thigh, linked over his, tightened and pulled him somehow closer. Her teeth carefully dragged over his skin, and she felt the hunger from deep inside her bones rise up with a vengeance.

She wasn't an animal, and he wasn't going anywhere, so she delicately stroked the space she planned to bite with her tongue, and settled herself on top of him. It didn't even matter to her that she was riling herself up, having him fit comfortably between her thighs. His free hand settled on her hip like it was made to fit. The other stayed linked with hers, his thumb consoling on the meat of her hand.

Sucking the area was more for his benefit than hers. Proving the point of having him tempt her, so close to her hungry teeth and not biting - it _meant_ something. She wasn't sure what. But it meant something.

Slowly, she rocked her hips back until she was sat more squarely on his pelvis to find him hard in his sleep pants. She hummed.

"Good," she said, pleased with her efforts. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one.

"Don't tease," he murmured. His hand smoothed up her back, then down to her hip again. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"I have a little idea," she admitted, tilting her head to suck a mark against his adam's apple. It made his voice shake when he next spoke.

"Won't you take what you want from me already?"

"I want," she whispered, hidden in his stubble and skin. "God, I want."

"Take," he said.

She kissed him again. Felt like crying in relief. She was so hungry... he was so delicious. And he didn't mind the sting of a bite. It was for no other reason than she was so hungry. The only werewolf venom between them was in his teeth, and he hadn't bitten her.

This was just kindness. A selfless thing. It was so fucking hot.

Shrill and high, the ring of her phone sliced through her dazed train of thought. She flew off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump. She swiped the green button without even seeing the name and hoped her words would work around her tongue, when it was salivating.

"Yeah?"

"Caroline-" It was Elena. "I'm so sorry to call so late."

"I was awake," she said. Scrambling, she got off the floor and fled the room without looking at the bed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." It was a lie, strained through her teeth. "Well, no. Kind of. I just - need a friend. I'm having a-.... Damon, crisis."

What else was new.

"Sure," Caroline said. She trotted downstairs. "Do you want me to come and get you?"

It was a moot offer, because she didn't have her car. She'd have to take Klaus'. To take Klaus', she'd need to ask him to borrow it, and where exactly the driver had put the keys. And having to look him in the eye right then seemed like, impossible.

She tried not to feel the heat of him still between her legs. The taste of his skin on her tongue. The impression his arousal had left a physical weight.

"I was wondering if I could come over?" Elena asked. "I just want to get out of the house."

Well shit.

She hadn't meant for anyone to find out Klaus was there. She looked around, trying to guess where car keys might be kept, so she could just take the car and go meet her there.

"It's actually not that bad," Elena said, hearing the pause for the struggle it was. "I can stay at Bonnie's. She's still doing Europe with Enzo, but I have a key for watering her plants."

"It's wedding weekend," Caroline said awkwardly.

"What?" Elena said, distracted. "Oh, your cousin. Right. Sorry, I forgot."

"It's fine. I'm just - I'm not at home right now," she explained. "I'm - out."

"Well if you're awake at 2:35 in the morning?" Elena said with a low humor. "He must be worth it."

"He is," Caroline found herself assuring her friend. It was impossible that Klaus would hear the conversation on both ends of the phone. He'd never know the compliment for what it was. "I've got some hellish morning planned, I think, and then I have to go and get my dresses for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding all sorted, but I can probably see you at some stage if you want?"

"I think that would be good."

There was a weird note in her voice that didn't often linger there. Defeat? No. God no. Caroline was a peppy optimist, but Elena was the silver lining finder. When Caroline was down, Elena was there with sage wisdom to help point out that no matter how bad something was, there was always something within it worth appreciating. (Caroline had not yet mastered the art by herself. That was a why Elena was such a good friend.)

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Caroline asked, sinking down into the lush lounge, tucking her bare feet up under her. "With Damon?"

Elena sighed in her ear.

Caroline heard doors and keys, a wind picking up as her friend exited the boarding house and went to her car. Once the door was shut and the car was on and reversing, Elena continued.

"I understand that vampire feelings are really, really amplified," she started, her husky voice low. "But tonight - tonight was different. He scared me."

"What?" Caroline said, scandalized. "What did he do?"

"I don't know what happened. He just blanked out. It was like he forgot where we were, or something." She paused. "He called me Katherine, and threw me at the bed."

"I'm coming to get you right now." Throwing her legs over the back of the couch, she landed and started to run for the front door. She could get to Bonnie's on foot, no biggie. "I'll meet you there."

"No, no, it's not that bad," Elena said, though she sounded tired. "He snapped out of it. He didn't even hurt me."

"Elena, no," Caroline said firmly. She pulled open draws, fossicked in the coats on the pegs. Keys, keys. Where the fuck were some keys? "Not okay. Not happening. Not to you. I'm coming to get you, and you can stay with me."

"And your mystery man will be okay with that?" Elena joked. "No thanks. I don't have vampire hearing, but I've shared a house with you and a guy before. My ears are still ringing."

"You're very funny, but I'm not kidding. As soon as I find some keys I'm gonna be on my way-"

"No," Elena said patiently. "Honestly, I'm fine. He suggested I leave in the first place. I told him I was going to your house."

"You're saying this like I shouldn't be alarmed, and I just think you should know, I am very alarmed." Caroline stood up straight. "At least Bonnie hasn't invited him into her house, I guess?"

"Exactly. He wouldn't hurt me. He just scared me a little bit."

Caroline thought of Klaus, raising his voice, and making her fall over. Yeah. Okay. Point made and taken. She rubbed the space above her heart.

"Some distance is good," Caroline said. "But if you don't think I won't go and stake him with the heel of one of my shoes-"

"I feel very blessed," Elena teased.

"So wait, what happened? Were you just sleeping, and then he started with the dramatics?" Pacing back to the lounge, she sank into it, eyeing Klaus' earlier bourbon and blood. She reached over and took a hearty gulp, raising her eyebrows in surprise at the pleasant taste.

"Ugh. Pretty much. You know Nathan from school?"

"Nathan Whitmore?"

"No, that's sporty Nathan. You know the other one?"

"Oh, Nathan Bradley! Yeah, the geek. What about him?"

"Nathan Bradley is who I'm working on my chem project with. He sent me a message just after midnight asking about presenting. I was already asleep when he sent it, but when Damon came home he saw the message and freaked out."

"So he's doing his weird growly eye twitch thing because you have a friend that's a guy?" Caroline guessed. Then she frowned. "Wait, not even a friend? Like, was the message clearly about the project?"

"It said, verbatim: 'hey Elena, sorry to message you so late. Just wondering if I could take the lead on the project presenting?' No emojis. No kiss kiss at the end. No pictures."

"And Damon somehow connected you to the unholy bitch herself, because...?"

"Well," Elena hesitated. "She's Katherine, and she cheated on him with his own brother?"

Caroline cast her eyes up at the roof. There was a passing memory of when someone had said something about Klaus and Katherine being like, a thing. But Caroline - for all her terribly jealous thoughts - had never, ever thought of Elena as being in the same boat.

"You know I'm the Queen of jealousy and over-reacting," she commented dryly. She listened to Elena's barely smothered giggle, then continued: "Even when Klaus and I were like... a thing, that was or wasn't happening, I never, _ever_ , put you in her league. I was worried about Katherine, because she's a tricky bitch and if she ever sunk her teeth into my man I was going to rip her heart out, but like - never _you_. You know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean. Damon is the new Queen of Jealousy and over-reacting," Elena quipped.

Her humor was in tact, but there was still an awful undercurrent of something not right, lingering behind her words.

"I've been dethroned," Caroline lamented. It got the chortle out of her friend that she wanted, so she sipped Klaus' old drink and snuggled into the couch. "What was he even doing, coming home at this time of night?"

"He's been drinking," Elena said, like that excused it.

Right.

"Does he do that a lot?"

"He's starting to. Once things cool down a bit more, I'll talk to him about easing up, or I'm going home. I really like him, Care, but tonight... Tonight scared me. I don't like that."

"I don't like that," Caroline concurred. A beat. "Do you want to talk about it, or just about anything?"

"I think I better talk about this," Elena said thoughtfully. "I need to get my head straight. I don't know what I can say to make him trust me."

"You shouldn't have to," Caroline muttered. "You're the most trustworthy person in the world."

"I know that, and you know that," Elena defended. "But how do I make him feel that, too?"

Caroline chugged the rest of the drink, and settled in to listen.

* * *

The phone call had lasted from the time it took for Elena to drive from her place to Bonnie's and sit in the car for ten minutes, just venting, and planning, and playing her own Devil's Advocate.

Caroline was listening, becoming more and more enraged with the whole situation, feeling energy light her system up to do something, anything.

Because _seriously_?

Fuck Damon.

If Elena had ever heard that someone Caroline was dating had freaked her out enough to seek refuge at someone else's house? She'd be the first to suggest at least a time out. But noooo. What was it about this guy that made her friend so stupid?

His eyes weren't even that blue.

As she listened to Elena begin to talk herself around to somehow being the bad guy, she went to the kitchen and started putting together her tried and true - an omelette. She sliced and diced, adding fresh veggies and herbs, beating the mix with a little more force than strictly necessary.

"Anyway," Elena said, sighing. "I don't know what started it in the first place. It's not like he's always confused me with her, but the last few weeks I've started to notice it really bad. The only guys he lets me keep around are Jeremy and Matt."

"That's because Matt doesn't count as a threat," Caroline scoffed. "He's practically a golden retriever."

"I know. So does Damon. But he even thinks Tyler is going to-..." Elena stopped. "Oh..."

Caroline swallowed.

"Oh, so you _are_ hanging out with him," she said, only slightly strangled. "I knew he'd be around somewhere. It's fine. How is he?"

"...Still bent on killing Klaus," Elena admitted.

"Uh huh," was Caroline's bored reply. "And Hayley?"

"Actually," Elena said slowly. "Hayley left a few weeks ago. Said he was a maniac. She took the rest of the pack he thinks he's building up into an army. She's on his hit list."

"Wow, there's a list now? Am I on it?"

There was an awful pause between them.

"I don't know," Elena said, very slowly. "There's something going on. Something isn't right with him. It's... it's a different kind of spiraling. He drinks more and more blood to keep his temper, but when he loses it, it's like he _really_ loses it."

"Often?" Caroline guessed, hearing a confirmation in a small hum. "Is he living with you guys?"

"Kind of," Elena said. The seat creaking beneath her let Caroline know she was feeling rightfully awkward about the turn of events. "He sometimes leaves for days or weeks randomly... trying to turn over some new lead on weapons that can put an Original down. But I think he's cooling off, to be honest, because when he comes back he's okay. I think the more he fails, the more he lets go of the whole vendetta - but when he's back here, he gets bad again. I'm trying to talk sense to him, Care, I am."

"I don't care," Caroline said, carefully keeping her emotions in check. "He's not my problem anymore."

Elena didn't say anything for a moment.

"He asks about you."

"What have you told him?"

"What I usually tell him. To call you."

"I don't want to talk to him."

"That is exactly what he tells me." Elena took a deep breath in. "Caroline, you're the only person in his life he cares about more than killing Klaus."

"No, I'm not," Caroline said firmly.

"You're underestimating yourself," Elena told her quietly. "You're the love of his life."

"No, I'm the first love of his life, that doesn't make me the last," Caroline corrected, not meaning to make the volume so loud. She cringed, and flicked her eyes to the ceiling, but Klaus didn't make any noise that she could hear. "It doesn't matter, Elena. It's done."

"I'm not pushing, because I don't really know what happened," Elena said fairly. "But do you think you could text him?"

"It's not my problem. I tried. I failed. It ended, and now it's done. Let's drop it now."

"I just think you cooled him down more than you realize," Elena muttered.

"Well evidently it wasn't by a whole lot, because when I asked him to stop, he wouldn't. He told me if I had a problem with that, then I should walk. So I did. He never came after me."

"That's not what he told me," Elena replied.

The heart in her chest was technically already dead, but that didn't stop it from feeling like she was gonna have to give herself self-CPR to start the beating again.

"What?" she said quietly. "What is he saying?"

"That you walked out on him because he was a disgusting hybrid."

Of all the things... all the lies... everything that he took from the last fight they had... He stuck to that?

She burst into laughter.

"Boy, do I know how to pick them!" _Remember when Damon was a thing that happened to me, too?_ she thought. The memory of it swept chills up and down her back. She knocked over the oregano, which spilled onto the counter and then toppled to the floor. Swearing, she turned off the heat and went to look for a broom.

"Wait-" Elena said, over her cursing the mess. "Tyler broke up with you?"

"Yeah," Caroline huffed. "Aw, look at this mess."

"He said you were the one..." Elena trailed off. "Actually, now that I think about it - he didn't say it was you, he kept saying it was your fault... Oh, that's messed up."

Caroline agreed in a hum.

"And now he feels guilty because he's out of a tantrum," Elena realized. "And so he wants you back. You're not going to let him walk back into your life if he's going to treat you like this, are you?"

"Oh, well it wasn't getting thrown onto a bed," she said pointedly. "So maybe I'll think about it."

Caroline's hearing was good enough to catch the shocked little hitch in Elena's throat. Yup. She really didn't want to talk about it enough that she was willing to drag Elena down by her hair as a distraction.

She wasn't ready to acknowledge that pain. Didn't care, and couldn't afford to. Tyler had said and done and planned many heinous, dangerous things to get back at Klaus for his mother's death. He'd gone down a terribly dark path. She had tried to steer him back to her, tried to bring him through to the boy she'd once known; but he didn't want to be in the light. He wanted to hurt, maim and wound.

So once he'd threatened to bite her if she didn't agree to playing her part of Klaus bait?

She'd walked out.

"That isn't fair," Elena muttered. "It's not the same thing."

"Yes it is," Caroline informed her, voice very hard. "You just don't like this end of the judgy stick."

A brief pause made Caroline aware that she was supposed to be concentrating n her food.

"Anyway," Elena said, wisely heeding the unspoken urging to steer the conversation to safer topics. "I think there might be some chocolate and a handle of whiskey around here somewhere with my name on it. Thanks for listening."

"Anytime."

"Tell me how the morning goes, and we can set something up," Elena told her. "I expect dress pics."

"You'll get them," Caroline promised. She exhaled. Her muscles relaxed. "Night 'Lena. Love you."

"Night, Care. Love you too." The car door opened, and keys jangled in her hand. "Give your mystery man a kiss for me."

"I might," she said, locating a broom and setting her phone aside.

Once the mess was done for and in the bin, she turned to the pile of food she'd made.

Given the early hour and her temper, it was fair to say that she had misjudged how many eggs needed breaking. She'd made enough food for a small legion of hungry teenage linebackers.

It was a shame to waste that much food, she knew. But it might break the ice for her to be able to look Klaus in the face again. There was no excuses to hide behind now - she really had straddled him and kissed him all of her own volition. There had been a shift, and she should probably acknowledge it. Probably best served with food and coffee.

After the coffee had finished percolating, she carried it all upstairs with cutlery balanced on top of the plate.

"So," she said, and gestured with the pot. "I made breakfast. Do you want some?"

He eyed the mountain of food between them, a slow smile growing.

"I'd like that," he mused, and pulled back the covers for her to climb back into the bed.

"Sorry about before," she said coolly, passing him some of the burden. Before he could comment on the kiss, or the blood share that had nearly transpired between them, she kept talking. "So! I was plotting something for _Bethany_ and her minions. Want to hear what I've come up with?"

There was only a tiny pause, as if he was weighing if it was worth perusing the initial apology. Apparently not. He speared a mushroom and gave her a winning half smile.

"What do you have in mind, love?"

"Well, she wants to go to my mom's house, and as of right now she's pretty solidly convinced we don't know about it," she said. "I'm going to let her."

She noticed the restraint when he very patiently said:

"Now, why would you do a thing like that?"

"So I can let her snoop," she said easily. "I want her to see that the will says they aren't owed anything. My mom was really clear about what she wanted, and she told my Aunt Linda before she died that the house, and the things in it, were all for me."

"Yet she contests?"

"I'm pretty sure the complication has come from Bethany," she announced. She stabbed her omelette harder than strictly necessary. "Who literally can't fathom why someone wouldn't leave her anything when they died. Do you know what she did, the day of my mom's funeral?"

He made a dissatisfied noise.

"She didn't show. She stole my credit card and went to get wine for the wake, because she didn't like what was already there, and 'didn't know anyone' at the funeral." She chewed thoughtfully, then broke into a smile. "Which is also part of the reason I'm letting her and Aunt Linda back into the house. I want to make them think it's haunted, and that mom is pissed at them. Between us we can rustle up a good fright, right? Slam some doors, whisper their names, move stuff around. You know. The good stuff."

"A little tamer than I thought initially, but if we're committing to not mauling the charming cousin Bethany, then I suppose we'll have to scare her quite well." His eyes glittered. "Perhaps if we scare her enough, she'll want to leave town before her wedding?"

Caroline laughed.

"It's something to aim for, but you heard her. The wedding is the most important day of her life. I don't think she'd even stop if her mother died. It's gonna have to be a good scare."

"I've got a few of those in ready supply." He dug into his omelette. "Is Elena alright? Trouble in paradise with which of the charming brothers?"

"Hey," she said, flatly. "If you're going to tell me you haven't diddled within a family in all the years you've been alive, I'm going to call Rebekah and get a confirm or deny."

"Diddled?" he parroted, cracking a huge grin. "Oh, Caroline. I do not _diddle_. Even if I did, it wouldn't be within a family line like that."

"Uh huh." She was only the teeniest bit doubtful that he hadn't done it at least several times over his long life. Maybe Rebekah would still get a text at a more reasonable hour. "Anyway. She's alright, I guess. She's dating Damon, but honestly if I had my way they would be very broken up, right now."

"What's he done?" he wondered, chewing the slice of omelette.

"He came home drunk and threw her across the bed," she said, her anger making her hands still on the pointed slicing of her food. Her anger bubbled under her skin, and she focused on her knees under the plate, trying to haul it back. "And he called her Katherine."

"Ah." Maybe because he'd been around for a while, he waited until she was passingly decompressed before he continued to talk. "I suppose it could be confusing, given the right inhibitor. Is she alright?"

"She left," Caroline said. "Wanted to come over to my place, but went to Bonnie's instead. She's not hurt, but he scared her, I think. The next time I see him I'm gonna break his neck."

"Shall I compel him to revert to his former teaching on how one must treat their lady?" Klaus teased.

"Yes," she said, looking at him with a smile that she tried to hide. "Don't encourage the little bit of me that's trying to be evil."

"Why? It's delicious." He took another bite of omelette. "Actually, _this_ is delicious. All of this was in my cupboards?"

"Mmhm," she said easily. "I like cooking."

"I like you cooking in my kitchen," he teased. "Very housewife of you."

"And very husband of you to sit up here in bed." She nudged him with her elbow, giving him a close lipped smile around her food. "Maybe Kingly."

"Nonsense. Were I a King, you'd be my Queen, and you wouldn't be tending the kitchen," he informed her warmly. "You'd be in here, with me."

Realizing that she was two seconds away from becoming a heart-eyed cartoon character, she flicked her eyes to the pot on his side of the bed.

"Can you pass me the coffee, please?"

"Of course, my Queen," he said with heat.

Oooooh, she _really_ hoped that wasn't a name that stuck.


	10. Truth or Dare

** Later that Saturday Morning, ??? **

The shrill noise of her cell once again pierced through the night, and she shut her eyes tighter for a second.

"I'm gonna put ten dollars down that it's Bethany," she announced.

Klaus grunted.

" _Bethany_."

She checked the caller ID, of course, but it didn't really make sense to her brain.

"Hello?" she said, groggy.

"Well, I honestly don't know what I expected. You've always been amazingly lazy," Bethany said flatly. "I gave clear, concise, blonde-proof instructions to be here at seven-fifteen so that you could be useful for once in your stupid, pathetic-"

"Go fuck yourself," Caroline said, and hung up.

"That's my girl," Klaus said, muffled into the back of her hair.

There was only three seconds before the phone rang again.

"Good morning, Bethany," she said. "How are you?"

"I was a lot better, before you decided to send some filthy fucking assistants to do your work for you." There was an echoing _click click click_ in the phone, the sound of pacing in a hollow room. "Because _again_. It's your specialty to pass on any actual work. As per usual, Caroline fucking Forbes will get someone else to run around like an absolute idiot if it means her manicure doesn't chip."

Caroline opened her mouth to speak, but Bethany wasn't done.

"You haven't changed a bit! What's that like, not caring what impact you have on anyone other than yourself? My mom said you would play nice, seeing as your mom is _dead_ and you don't have any one to back you up."

Honestly, she would've liked to have listened to the rest so she could be angry at her as she was due, but she was kind of busy trying to wrestle Klaus back onto the bed. Her cousin continued to fully berate her from her forgotten place on the pillow. If she had've heard, she would've been mad! Like, mad, mad. But she was latched around the Hybrid's back, trying to drag him into sitting down, and couldn't hear the berating for her (Not-Boyfriend)'s growling.

"I'm not going to kill her," he said through his teeth. "We're just going to have a little _chat_."

"Klaus-"

She tried to pull him back, but he was stalking effortlessly toward his closet with her weight solely on his back. He pulled open the double doors to snatch his jeans, and shook them out of the neat fold they were in. She would examine why that turned her on later.

"Just a chat," he said.

"She's just gotta get it out of her system-" she said quickly. "She'll ease up in a minute."

"You call that, getting it out of her system?" He gestured to the bed, where Bethany was full tilt going on, and on, and on. She mentioned Caroline's mother more than once, and fed the silence with more creative insults.

Caroline was lazy, Caroline was selfish, Caroline deserved to die alone. Caroline didn't care about any one, Caroline was stupid, and Caroline had disappointed her mother. Intermittently, there was a curse word to drive home her point, under lining every sentence with a new perspective on why she truly was The Worst Person Ever.

"You said you weren't gonna hurt anyone," she reminded him, her voice pitched up an octave.

"No, I said I wouldn't _kill_ anyone." He was still getting dressed even with her baby koala-ing him, and he wasn't slowing down to pick up a shirt. Desperate, she locked her ankles around him and then stuck her hands out to stop him advancing through the closet door.

When he noticed resistance, he turned in the circle of her legs, glowering.

"Klaus, just take a second! Think!" She heaved for breath, trying to convey her desperation to him. He was like, nursed right up against her crotch, his firm stomach threatening to offer some good friction. All she would need to do is rub, and she'd find it.

"What exactly am I thinking about?" he prodded. His eyes were bright blue, shoulders set high and tense. All the cords in his forearms were swollen with the tight fists he let hang by his side, but he still didn't threaten her.

"If you do anything to hurt her, it'll be my fault," she told him on a breath. She shifted her grip on the frame of the door, and wet her lips. "Please don't make this my fault."

"I won't ruin her life," he offered in meager compromise. "I'll just put the fear of god in her."

"She won't let me live it down, and I'll lose the rest of my family!" she tried.

"They aren't good to you."

"So!" she exclaimed. "Yours aren't either!"

His teeth bared for a second, and she wondered if she had pushed him too far. But instead of replying, he reached around her to spread his hands over her ass and shoulder, prying her bodily from the door. At the first electric latch of his fingers, she let out a unsubtle gasp, lurching forward to put her arms around his shoulders.

If she flicked her tongue out, she would undoubtedly knock his lip. She tightened thighs around him and may, or may not, have arched her back to rub her chest against his.

It did not go unnoticed.

His eyelids dropped to make some effort to hide the little spark of yellow that flashed there, but he stopped walking, curling his hand into her hair. He dragged it back, making her head follow, and dared run the tip of his nose over her throat.

Did she jolt against him, or did he squeeze his hands to earn it? She didn't know which came first, but both happened. Her brain couldn't think beyond how hot the temperature of him was, bleeding into her shorts, impressing on the insides of her legs. All she knew was the awful waiting... the slow drag of time where she wanted him to just - do something. Anything.

"Klaus..." Her voice was thick. She tried to lift her head but he curled her hair around his hand and the length of it made her head stay tilted back. The prickle of pain made her eyes roll shut, and her breath start to come a little faster to her.

He turned and lowered her to the bed, hand still tangled in her hair. Her legs stayed tucked around his narrow hips, arms up by her head in surrender.

"Stay," she urged him.

"I'll stay," he said. "With you."

"Okay," she said softly. "That's good. That's what I want."

He leaned over her to hit the red button on her phone, cutting the tirade blissfully short. Hovering above her, he bent his head to press his lips against the banging pulse in her throat.

"I have a game we're going to play to keep the both of us good and distracted from the things that woman just said to you," he rumbled. When Bethany called back, he rejected it with a quick swipe that stopped the phone from even making the first ring. "Unless you have a better idea for how I can spend all my inspired energy?"

Then the messages started to ding, but he ignored that too, swiping the device until he found the airplane mode. He engaged it, then tossed her phone onto the bedside. Perched like that, his hand pinning her hair to the bed, he looked at least a little debauched. His hair was bed scruffed and there was a faint pink in the high points of his cheeks. His free hand hovered a tantalizing half inch above her collarbone.

"I'll keep you occupied," she breathed.

He skimmed the air above her throat, hovering over her breasts in the cute pink shirt. His forefinger twitched so aggressively as he followed it down to the hem of the top that he drew a small line over her waist.

It was such an innocent, tiny caress. She saw he'd done it by accident. It still made her back bend to try and chase more, tightening her legs around his hips.

Shit.

She'd turned herself on. There was no way he didn't know, judging by the hand he braced under her thigh, giving it a comforting little squeeze. He studied her face, the frown dissipating the longer her watched her, paying attention to both cheeks and the nipples beginning to firm under the thin stripes of her shirt.

Slowly, she unhooked her heel, and put it on the bed with purpose. She didn't do the same with the other until he let it go, his brow twitching.

"Shall we play?" He let go of her hair with extreme reluctance, putting his hand just to the side of her head. "Truth or dare."

"We can't do this all day," she reminded him. She hated feeling the inferior between them so she got up onto her elbows, lifting her chin. "I have things that need doing."

"Three rounds each, and then we can leave. We'll have forgotten all about her by then," was his assurance. He took a step back, and leaned his shoulder to the post of the bed. The semi in his pants was not subtle, and he made no attempt to hide it. "I know you have a lot on your plate. But for a few minutes of distraction, we can play a little game."

Pride filled her chest when she managed not to look directly at his hard on, because boy. She wanted to. She wanted to run her hand over the length of it behind the denim, and see what kind of face he'd make for her teasing.

"What happens if you forfeit?" she challenged. "What do I get?"

"I won't."

"Well neither will I," she said boldly. She scooted back on the bed and felt more secure on her knees, which effectively hiked the tiny pink shorts up to the crease of her hip.

Did she know that might happen? Duh.

Did she do it on purpose to keep his attention? Obviously.

Was she going to pretend that she wasn't actively dampening her own underwear, thinking about how she wanted him to reach over and touch her?

"Truth or dare, Caroline?" He did not move a single muscle but his eyes and his mouth, and the tiny flare of his nostrils.

"Truth," she said promptly. She hadn't played this game with him before. She wanted to know how he was going to set the standard.

"In the absence we shared, when you sent me away, did you ever touch yourself and think about me?"

Ohhhh, he was gonna play the game like that. Well, if he wanted to be saucy, that was fine. She could be pretty spicy herself.

"Yes," she told him.

"What were you thinking of?"

She laughed.

"It's one truth, one dare. No follow ups."

"One follow up per truth, for being a coward and choosing truth." He arched his brows with a sinful curl of his lip. "It'll be a much more interesting game if we allow follow ups."

"I reserve the right to have at least one I can reject," she said.

"Deal." He tipped his head at her, like he was dipping an invisible hat. "What were you thinking of, when you touched yourself and thought of me? Did you make it up, or were you revisiting what we had already done?"

"One follow up," she said, falsely stern. "Pick a single question."

He didn't hesitate, but he did rephrase.

"What were you thinking of, that got you there?"

"Which time?" she said. It came out of her mouth before she could think of the implications, or how that would do a great deal of damage to his already over inflated ego.

"Give me the time you came hardest," he instructed.

There had been many fantasies that featured his mouth and hands, and the perfect way his cock hit her on the inside. There had been many that involved him pinning her down and being rough as he physically could be, bordering into scary territory. There had been all the magically themed ones which had him bound to a bed so she was the one who had the power over him.

But the one that made her come the hardest?

"It started off a dream that I woke up during," she said softly. His ears visibly pricked forward at the tone of soft reluctance. "Elena and Damon's engagement party. Everyone I know was there, including the librarian and the vet I used to take the cat to when I was little. We were on this long table, and it went on and on forever. You had to sit under the table, for some reason."

He nodded. Urged her on.

"I was in a green dress." Her throat got thick. She could see it so vibrantly, the outfit, the candles, everything. "We were all talking, but ignoring you, because no one could really see you. You didn't like that."

"I think I'd be surprised to have been invited," he teased. "Let alone be allowed to sit beneath the table."

"I think you were paying for it," she said with a small smile. She nibbled her lip. "Anyway. I remember dreaming about that part. It didn't make a lot of sense, because Damon wasn't even there and it kept switching from night to day, and there was a random cat that kept catching fire on the candles. But then I woke up, but I was still kind of asleep. And I remember thinking, I didn't want to talk to you an start a fight, but I didn't want to leave you there with nothing, either, so I grabbed you by the hair and let you rest your cheek on my lap."

Understanding crossed his features.

"Did I creep under your skirt, love?" His smile kicked up on the corner.

She nodded. Heat built at the back of her neck not all of it was shameful.

"I was still talking to people when you rubbed up my legs and snapped my panties off. I knew exactly what you were doing, but you told me not to let them guess. I wasn't allowed to move my hips like I wanted, and if I opened my legs too wide Elena might see. So it took ages... Every time I moved, you stopped." Her head listed to the side. "I came so hard I-..."

"Tell me."

"No," she said shyly. She had actually broken the bedhead, snapped it clean in two, with the hand she'd used to brace herself on it. Wood splinters raining into her hair and face couldn't even stop the fervent pulsing of her insides.

"I'll make it worth your while," he promised.

She laughed.

"We've got time, and you've got two more rounds," she teased, scrunching her nose at him. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

As if she was surprised. Still, she'd been hoping he'd say truth, so she could get a fantasy out of him.

"I dare you to..." Her brain fogged at the many, many delicious opportunities. Unlike every teenager she'd known, she'd never played this game with someone who she really, really liked. The possibilities were endless, but so dangerous, when he had two more chances to get her back, and they were in a quiet room together. "I dare you to show me all the kinky things you have in this room."

He snickered.

"Nothing in _this room_ , I'm afraid," he cooed. "Only lube."

"Flavored?"

"Strawberry currently. The champagne flavor needs to be replaced."

"Is it any good?"

"I certainly like to think so. I can show you later, if you like."

"Sure."

Despite the gravity of the mood between them, it lifted with the both of them smiling. Again. How many times would they test the awkward train, and keep dodging it?

"Truth or dare?" he asked.

She tilted her head.

"I am not game to pick dare when you're in this kind of mood and I won't back down. Truth."

His eyes lit up. There was a new smile on his face, one that made him look a little psychotic, but like, in an endearing way. He folded his arms over his chest, and looked at her shorts.

"On the plane yesterday," he murmured. "You were turned on."

Her heart banged.

"That's not a question."

"Something made you go inside your head," he accused. "Something made you fall into the stupor of your hungry mind. I'm asking you: what made you start, and then tell me what made you wet?"

Far be it for anyone to say she was squeamish. It wasn't like it was something he hadn't seen and actively experienced before, god. Her panties were already damp, she could feel the air alighting those precious senses. She ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling the shift of pressure to her canines.

"The attendant," she admitted. "Kicked it off."

"You were jealous?"

"Which one is your second question?" she fired back.

"I want to know the fantasy that made you start squirming," he said boldly.

"Maybe some fantasies are better off left that way," she challenged. "Reality can ruin a good dream."

"Or perhaps you think I'll indulge you," he cooed. "Which is the far more likely outcome. You can reject this question if you like, but I won't ever forget it. My methods can be somewhat devious, and I very badly want to know."

Rolling back onto her ass, she innocently batted her lashes and stretched out her legs, pouting as she pointed her toes.

"It wasn't like, a big deal." Her hands grasped the covers from the withering look he gave her. It was a warning. She wondered what the consequences might be if she didn't answer. "I just, you know. Thought about dragging your hand up my skirt, and making her watch what you're capable of when you really put your mind to it."

There was no amount of lid-lowering he could do to hide the bloom of black and gold in his eyes.

"You _were_ jealous," he said softly. "My poor love. However can I make it up to you?"

She cast her eyes directly at his hard on. The sheer force of willpower it took not to open her legs and tell him to get to work was frankly astounding. If there had been an Olympics for impossible feats, she'd apply.

"You can pick truth," she said, low. "Or dare."

He ran his palm over the front of his jeans, looking at her from beneath his lashes as he adjusted. Did anyone else break out into a sweat? Did the room suddenly get like, ten sizes too small?

"Dare," he told the growing wet patch between her legs. His hand cupped himself through the jeans and gave a solid squeeze, then tucked that hand under his arm.

God, again with the dare. She wondered if he would call her next move a foul.

"I dare you..." Even she was surprised by the voice that came out of her mouth. She had never been what she would describe as shy about sex, but the voice was like, a whole other person. Husky. Thick with desire. Completely unashamed, which was a nice surprise. "To tell me what your favorite fantasy about me is."

The bad news was, he called her on it.

"That's a truth dressed up like a dare," he said.

"It's a dare," she protested. But it wasn't. She and the girls had discussed this ad nauseam. You can't dare people to tell you their truth - it has to be something they can achieve, without injury or permanent embarrassment. It was her rule, after all, but she'd never hated it more.

"It's a truth," he insisted. "I asked for a dare."

She gave him her sulkiest look, and sighed as though he'd broken some bad news to her.

"Trust me," she pouted. "You should've just answered the question. Now I have a dare over you, and I'm pissed off."

"Pissed off?" His mouth was twitching. "Why?"

She motioned to her crotch with a slightly shaky hand.

"You could dare me to help," he said roughly. "Tongue, hands, other. I'd have to be your slave. It's the rules."

"Oh is it?" She licked her lips. Her nipples were stiffening and the girls felt tingly and untended. What would he do, if she started squeezing her own boobs? "My slave, huh? You sure that's what you want to say to me? Like _that_? When we're looking at each other like this?"

Every inch of his smile was wicked.

"It's a fun game, if you let it be," he offered. "If I were you, I'd demand assistance."

Something awful and kinky stirred up in her chest. She wanted to push, while she had him sworn to control - she wanted him to break it, and turn into the feral animal that always lingered just behind his eyes. He was so smooth, sometimes, it was maddening.

"I want you to remember," she told him evenly. "That I dared you to tell me a story. You pushed. This is push back."

"Give me your worst," he goaded.

"You want my worst?" Her smile was pageant worthy, Miss Mystic Falls, sweet summer kisses. She was every southern belle and debutante all rolled into one, when she said: "Get on your knees by the bed, and don't touch me."

It was like she'd shot him, for a second. The shock. When it processed in his brain what she had asked for, his jaw moved as he ground his teeth, lips pursed in a displeased pout.

Still, he took the pillow she passed to him, and knelt on the floor beside the bed.

It wasn't enough to have him that close, though - he had told her to give him her worst.

Caroline maneuvered her ass right to the edge, shamelessly hooking her knees over his shoulders. Propped on her elbows behind her, she could see the pulse of the vein in his throat as he breathed in deeply and clenched his teeth, unable to do anything about it.

"Your turn." Gleefully, she added: "Last one!"

He didn't answer for a moment. In fact, she was sure he'd astral projected into a different realm, the way he was looking at her crotch. He didn't even blink, he just watched, and bent as she dug her heels into his back and brought his mouth an inch away from her. The heat of his breath made goosebumps explode on her legs, and she relaxed on the bed.

"Ah, ah, ah," she tutted. "No touching."

"You're cruel," came from between his teeth.

"Glad you noticed," she said sweetly. Her fingers reached between them and she straightened up the lace on the tender part of her inner thighs, barely brushing against the damp patch in the middle. She pressed down with two fingers, feeling her body react to the look he gave her crotch, and the slow spread of coolness on her folds.

"Truth or Dare?" he muttered.

"Truth."

"Two years ago, when you started telling your family that we were dating," he said, his words clipped. His hand, hidden behind the edge of the bed, was moving quite quickly. "We hadn't known each other long at all."

"That's not a question," she laughed. "What's the matter Klaus, are you distracted?"

He bared his teeth with a little growl that sent a thrill through her belly, making her thighs tighten, ready to drag him in. He noticed. He couldn't _not_ notice. A human would've noticed from across the room.

"I am," he admitted. "But my _distracted_ is not the same as everyone else's. I have a question, and I have a follow up."

"Which I still reserve the right to deny," she chirped.

He wet his lips.

"Let me ask you first," he cautioned. "You started to tell your family we were dating as a cover. While you were still bloody mad about Tyler, and we had only gone to the Mikealson ball. I hadn't kissed you. I hadn't touched you. I hadn't rolled around the forest with you, and felt the way you came on my fingers, and tongue, and cock, for all the hours we spent together that day."

She started to feel a little nervous.

"Still not a question," she murmured.

"I'll give you them both," he said. "Why did you chose me as your cover then, and why wasn't Tyler here for you this weekend?"

Her brain kind of - record scratched.

"What do you mean?" she said quickly.

"Why did you choose me, when you had Tyler?" he clarified. "Two years ago, you were happily dating him. You adored him. You thought he was the best thing that had happened to you. But you told them you'd started dating me. I want to know why."

"And the other thing?" She was trying to think of the lesser evil in answering both of these questions, but she had to be really careful about which one she chose, and what she said.

"You came to New Orleans," he said patiently. "On a plane, on your own, to find me and ask me to my face if I would attend this wedding as your support. You and I haven't spoken since you kicked me out of Mystic Falls. I want to know, why isn't he here with you, when he surely knew what the rest of your family are like to you?"

"We're broken up," she said faintly.

He scoffed.

"And we'd never dated at all, but you still knew I'd come if you asked me."

He straightened his back, looking meaningfully at her face. Though the scent of sex was in the air, they had both stopped. She felt flushed and kind of exposed, but not because her entire lady business was next to his face. Her exposure came from the way he was determinedly looking past it, only at her expression.

If she told him the truth about Tyler, Klaus would _literally_ kill him. She couldn't talk about Tyler without seeing his hybrid eyes, and the drool on his teeth, when he said he'd kill her if she didn't play Klaus-bait.

Which! Newsflash! Klaus had bitten her first, to get at Tyler - AND he'd claimed to have feelings for her at the time!

How was it any different to what Klaus had done? Klaus had actually bitten her. Stabbed her through the belly, pulled her into his sphere, and bitten her to get his own way. She had thought she was going to die, bleak and in pain, laying alone with the Big Bad Wolf himself because Tyler had just left her there.

She sat up and took her legs from his shoulders, moving her hand to cup herself and block most of it from his eyes.

Not that he looked. He was watching her face, hands planted on the bed.

On the other hand, the answer for why she had picked him to use as her cover was an ego stroke if there ever was one. The truth of that was, he was just more impressive than Tyler was. He made her feel passion. He was richer than god and hansom as the devil. He was an artist, and a bad boy, and a champion waltzer, and he was absolutely on her level about obsession and love, and he never called her out on her temper because he had one of his own.

Tyler, by comparison, was a temperamental bitch who made her feel insecure, all day every day. That had been BEFORE he'd tried to whore her out under threat of death.

"I picked you two years ago because you were the one I talked about the most," she told him. "Someone Googled you and some of your art from Sweden popped up, and they decided it was one less thing to harass me about."

Edging to the bed, she stood up, matched by him. He only had a few inches on her, but she felt them, having to tilt her head back, they were so close.

"Tyler isn't here," he said.

"No, he's not." She looked down at his necklaces. "I'm pretending Tyler doesn't exist."

"It didn't end well?" he guessed. "Or did he do something particularly heinous?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"The second thing. I don't trust him anymore," she said, which was not a lie - but not the answer she should have given, either. Just a carefully edited version of the truth.

He was so soft. Gazing, his breathing purposefully slow and deep, chest expanding to brush hers.

"You trust me?"

"Yeah, Klaus, of course I do." She looked at him with a small frown. "You know that."

"I know it now," he said.

A beat passed between them, a slow stretch of time that was equal parts one second, and one lifetime. The distinct impression she got from him then was that it had been a long, long time, since Klaus had been trusted by anybody.

"Truth," she murmured. "Or dare?"

Smiling gently, he lowered his lids over his eyes.

"Truth."

_Do you love me?_

_Will you want me when I stop putting up a chase?_

_You're not putting up much of a chase now,_ her mother's dry voice said in her head. It wasn't mad. It was just factual, and a little fondly exasperated.

"When I went to New Orleans, I had a question."

"Go on."

"You have a whole other life there. You have your power, your family, everything you want, there -" A flash of his morphing face made little sense at the time. The next words were out of her mouth before she could process that it looked like he was going to argue with her. Did he _not_ have everything he wanted? "Why did you come away with me?"

"Because you asked me," was the very quiet reply. In the pause that stood then, he tilted his head and surveyed the tilt of her brow, made heavy with concern. "You still have one last question."

She swallowed.

"Are you happy?"

His hands were slow to reach out to clutch at her biceps, pulling her the extra step closer, so he could wrap his arms around her and guide her head to his chest. He pressed a long kiss to the top of her hair, and held her back as though she was made of glass.

She returned the hug, shutting her eyes to feel him so close to her. His vulnerable underside blocked with her back. She was getting all of him, all the softness and the sweetness, and greedily dug her hands into him to bring them closer still.

Her hip pressed against his hardness and she rolled her head to place her chin on his chest, feeling her fangs begin to pinch the inside of her mouth. She linked her straying hands on the center of his shoulders to avoid them rubbing the front of his jeans.

"Yes."

"Oh good," she told him. "Hi, happy. I'm really, really, turned on. Nice to meet you."

Chuckles made his chest jump and unseat her chin to lay her cheek on his sternum, bowing his head to kiss her crown and try and hide the smile. He kissed her temple, then her ear. He exhaled roughly and kissed her throat, fingers tangling in her hair to move it aside to get at the skin.

"I know," he sighed, put-upon. "But we're going to be late to shopping if you start this now."

"Pretty sure I'm not the one who was all about kissing you," was her breathy defense.

"No, you just put your flooded panties an inch away from my mouth," he drawled. "While I'm trying to keep my head."

"And why are you doing that, exactly?" She smoothed her other hand up his taut belly, feeling the ripple of his contracting stomach under the touch. She dug her nails into his pec and definitely caught his nipple, if the sudden blaze of yellow in his eyes was anything to go by. "Weren't you saying something about distractions, earlier?"

"Ordinarily," he told her. "I would endevour to let you have at it, sweetheart."

"Have you got a problem with me wanting to sit on you?" Her brow shot up. "Because that's what I want to do. That's what's gonna happen. Unless you get me up against a wall, which I will accept, if I eventually get you on the bed and you let me ride-"

A hand clapped, not unkindly, over her mouth.

"Trust me, _that_ isn't the problem. I'd very much like to get rid of the tensions between us, and I'd like to do it in every known position." He cupped her face in both hands and snuck a kiss on both her cheeks. He breathed out a growly breath through his nose when she found the other nipple and gave it a cruel pinch. "Stop that. I'm behaving myself."

"Since when is behaving something you participate in?"

"You gave me the task of making certain that you didn't misstep this weekend," he said. "I'm taking my duty very seriously. As I said, love, I want to indulge you, I do. But if you start with me, like this, I'm not going to stop at just the one orgasm, or the first hour."

Her breath hitched.

"I'm going to let you take what you want from me," he promised her, bending to speak softly into her ear. "I'm going to find salvation in the eager heat of your pretty wet cunt, and I'm going to enjoy seeing you use my cock to keep you full, and pleased. I will watch you ride me, and clutch at me, and say my name when you reach the highest peak. I'll have you mindless with joy and pleasure, Caroline, and glutted for all the affection I know you crave."

He gripped her ass, and she rolled up onto her toes to suck on his throat.

"The things I'll do to you..." he exhaled a growl. He squeezed her ass and made her take a step closer, fitting his thigh between her legs. Did she rock against him, or did he pull her to grind? She would never know. "I'll need time."

" _Klaus_ ," she said, broken.

"The things I'll do to you, when we have time, love, will rewrite the stars." He swallowed. His eyes were shut as he trailed his nose over her throat and latched onto her neck with suckling lips. "I'll perform every fantasy, indulge every whim that you've ever had. I want everything, from you. I want _everything_. So you understand why it's not going to happen today?"

Her fangs burst down, head dropping to his shoulder.

Because, quite unfortunately, he was right.

"Cold shower," she groaned. "You first."

He let her out of his arms to smile fondly down at her.

She felt so adored. What the fuck. She was full vampire mode, all demon eyes and weaponized teeth. He stroked her face, tenderly tracing her cheekbone and jaw.

The urge to cry welled up inside her. She wanted to tell him how grateful she was for him. How she really had missed him. How scared she had been of Tyler, and what he had threatened to do to Klaus.

She banished it from her thoughts. It wasn't a right now problem.

Up on her tiptoes, she delivered a very gentle kiss, lingering on his lips. He was being really sweet, and it was making her heart do somersaults all the way down into her guts.

"Cold shower," she said. "Cold. Icy. Go. I might masturbate in your bed."

"If you do, we aren't leaving this room. For the next week at least, we aren't leaving," he told her sternly. "Fuck the wedding."

"Fuck the wedding," she agreed, and kissed him again. "Mm. Mmhm. Yup. Go now. Get. Cold shower. Go."


	11. Elijah

Literally thinking she was going to hump his pillow until she had a semi-decent orgasm and goad him into staying in bed with her for the rest of the week, Caroline had climbed onto the bed with single minded intent.

From the pitter-patter of the shower head, he had just turned it on, and had stepped under the spray for the hiss that echoed through his teeth.

The wonderful thing about a broken bathroom door was the view she got in the reflection of the mirror. She might've preferred it steaming and at least passingly enjoyable, but he flinched and put a cupped hand over his penis when he stepped under the water.

A pillow had just found her hand when his phone buzzed. The name on the screen was familiar.

"It's Elijah," she said mildly. "Should I tell him you're busy?"

Klaus snorted.

"Yeah, go on. He'll only be checking I haven't lit a fire somewhere."

With a surge of mischief that she hadn't felt in ages, Caroline picked up the phone and swiped the green button.

"City morgue - you kill 'em, we chill 'em," she said brightly.

She was pretty sure she heard the impeccable Original himself suck in a mouthful and do an epic spit-take, if the following coughing was to be believed. She waited, lounging on the bed, still watching Klaus ease under the cold water.

"I assume he's said his apologies?" Elijah said, muffling a cough into his hand. "Or have you found a way to kill him I don't know about?"

"What apologies?" she replied. Klaus turned his ear toward her, a shoulder going numbly under the water. The little droplets on him glittered like tiny crystals. Tiny crystals that needed to be licked up. Mm. "For the fight yesterday? Wait, how did you-... he called you?"

"He did."

" _You_? Why did he call you?"

"For advice, I'd imagine."

"And what, you said to apologize?"

"Yes. For the record, I suggested flowers and a prompt, sincere apology. Has he done either?"

"He got me blood and a video of him beating up some people I don't like," she said easily. "Like, I love flowers, but that kind of kicked the mood a whole lot better."

"Of course it did," he drawled.

"Ah, excuse you, you can't judge me about what does and doesn't work as an apology, Mr. Leaver of Soul Crushing notes."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, hi, I'm a girl, girl's talk. You snuck off into the night and left The Note of Crushed Dreams? When I did the pros and cons lists of why it was a bad idea that teenage hormones were being felt for a thousand year old vampire, and that did not go in the good points, let me tell you."

The silence in the phone felt pretty stunned to her.

"Forgive me," he said faintly. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like, which part was not clear? I thought I was being succinct."

"I never left you a note."

"Me? No. _Ew_." She slapped her head. "Sorry about the 'ew', you're not. You're - you're just - not my type. My bad, I've still got some - impulse control with the uh, hunger. Also sometimes I just say things. Sorry."

"Caroline, I really don't know to what you're pertaining," he told her.

"We have like two people in common, and one of them is your brother, currently in a shower, not showering." When he didn't immediately speak, she rolled her eyes heavenward. If she ever made it to a thousand, she hoped to all the deities that her motor mouth stayed well up to the brain functions. "Elena?"

"Elena," he said softly. Caroline's nosy brain perked up like a meerkat. "Forgive me. I haven't heard her name in a long time."

"Yeah, take your time." She was pretty sure he was feeling _his_ feelings. What would it be like to write him a pros and cons list of his squishier emotions? Elena had been adamant that he was full to the brim of them. "Should I not mention her? Was there a _thing_ I missed? A break up, torrid love affair, or something? If you two have had some fantastic romantic sexcapade and she hasn't told me, I'm gonna be so fricken mad."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said quickly.

"Because when she heard about Klaus, boy, did I get it. 'Not angry, just disappointed'. _Ugh._ " It had taken her vampire heart weeks to recover. "Like how am I supposed to resist Klaus when he turns it on? The charm, I mean. Not - not -... Yeah. Anyway. I wouldn't have lectured her, exactly, but there would've been a very solid 'I told you so' in there. Originals don't play fair when they want something."

Could Original brains reboot? It sounded like Elijah might've been rebooting.

Caroline waited with the view of Klaus' hands scooping the water over his neck, letting the glide of it soothe the flush of red in his chest and swollen dick. She licked her lips when he stepped under it, turning his face up to the spray - all that pretty water made his neck look long and juicy.

Why was she still so hungry? Specifically for the bourbon and blood mix from last night.

"I have to just - clarify, something, if you'll let me." The creak of leather in her ear made him sound like he was sinking into an armchair, or something. "You spoke of the apology letter I left, and it made its way to a _what_ , list?"

"Feeling her feelings," she said simply. "So we had to go into everything she knew about you so we could get the right data. Which is why I know about Katherine, kind of."

"What?" he repeated. "How could Katherine factor in any-... Discussion, you'd had with Elena, about me?"

"Seriously?" she exclaimed. "I thought you were the smart one?"

"That's a common mistake," he drawled. "Please, start with the start."

She huffed a laugh.

"We had to talk, at length, about everything Elena knew about you," she said, playfully slowly. "With me?"

"So far," he replied in good humor.

"Great. So Katherine came up because they're literal doppelgangers, and you obviously had some unresolved, hundreds of years old thing going on there. One of Elena's problems was that she didn't know if you were looking at her the way you did because you were actually friendly, or if you were looking at her and seeing Katherine."

"I never saw Katherine in Elena," he informed her. "She's far too good."

"You can try that on someone who didn't get _several_ play-by-plays of the way you kissed her," Caroline retorted. "When you thought she was Katherine."

"Several?" Elijah said, at the same time as Klaus called out: "Elijah kissed Elena?"

"Yes, several, and yes, Elijah kissed Elena - she was wearing a mimic for vampire scent and made him think she was Katherine. It was a whole - thing. I think Rebekah knew?"

"Of course she did," Klaus chuckled. "Rebekah also knew what that might do to Elijah when he found out."

"We can discuss that later. Put the hot water on, you're making me feel cold just by looking at you," she said, knowing Elijah would hear. Klaus' eyes found hers in the mirror as he reached out and turned the hot on. His grin was sinful. He'd known she was watching, the dirty exhibitionist. "So yeah, anyway. After that, we had to go through all my filing and dig out the lists to put the amendment on."

"I'll hold onto the questions I have about why a teenage girl filed away pros and cons lists," Elijah said dryly.

"Most of them can be answered with 'anxiety' and 'control issues'," she supplied.

His soft chuckle made her smile. Yeah, actually, she could understand how Elena had been in a Salvatore sandwich but still go goo-goo eyes for this guy. He was a little bit charming. Fucking Mikealsons.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he mused. "But do you keep saying 'lists', as in plural?"

"Yeah. They're separate lists for the separate problems she was squaring off at. We had like two full weekends of hands-on trying to solve this thing."

"All this to solve what, exactly? Part of our deal, and if I could be trusted? Or did she hold issue with Katherine?"

"Like, things were - obviously, you were there. It was complicated. Even to just get a handle on who was doing what, or had history with who - there was this little spreadsheet I did with just the people in the web. It was Elena and Stefan, and her and Klaus, and me and Klaus, you and Klaus, and you and Katherine, Katherine and Klaus, and then me and Tyler, Stefan and Tyler, Tyler and Klaus, Stefan and Klaus, Stefan and Damon, Damon and _me_. Which is why we needed lists."

"And spreadsheets."

"And spreadsheets! Finally. We're getting somewhere."

"It would be remiss of me to agree to that. I still don't know what you were trying to solve," he prompted.

"I mean - there was a lot of time trying to sift through the goopey, insecure: 'does he want me, or does he want my replicate face?' thing."

"Did she truly think that of me?" he wondered.

"Yeah, of course. She's a perfect copy of two of the women you had all these gorgeous feelings for, and even though Katherine was... Katherine, you still managed to find something to fight for in her. Not to mention," she went on, getting slightly louder in her frustrated, long held rant. "Damon and Stefan Dickholes Extraordinaire."

"I won't mention them," he promised. "But can I guess that neither had a great deal of tact when it came to their comparisons?"

"Short answer is no," she said, clipped. The information Elena had parted with just the phone call before was ringing in her ears. Damon was still not on board with Elena being decent. "I'm not great at short answers. But no. They were, and are, not tactful. They reinforce a lot of insecurities."

He heard his swallow.

"The letter I left, in apology," he said quietly. "She spoke to you about it?"

"We _still_ talk about it. Also, that was not a letter, that was a note," Caroline corrected. "It wasn't long enough to be a letter, and as far as apologies went, that was not it."

"I didn't mean to leave that kind of impact," he confessed, slightly hushed, as if there was someone listening on his end he wasn't entirely happy with. Or maybe he thought Klaus might hear? "I thought that keeping it short would make it clear. I had to leave something, to try and ease what I'd done."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Do not even. I have so many hours debating what the purpose of it was it's not even funny. That note was _not_ an apology, it was a totally weird flirtation."

"Did _you_ read it that way, or did Elena?" His tone was neutral, for the most part. The lingering interest behind the words was evident regardless. She was Caroline Freaking Forbes. She spoke nosiness intimately.

"Actually, no. We weren't allowed to read it. I wasn't even allowed to touch it."

"Then Elena took it as 'a totally weird flirtation'," he mimicked.

"I still don't know what she took it as, but that's how I understood it."

"How can you possibly know my intent, if you never had my words?"

"That's not what I said," she said primly.

"You said you'd never read it."

"I haven't." The 'duh' was heavily implied. "I said I wasn't allowed to touch it, or read it. I know what it says."

"It's one thing to have a letter explained to you, quite another to have it's word." He seemed to be trying to make some kind of point.

Caroline took her kid gloves off.

"'I did things I abhor to protect the one thing I love, if anyone can understand it, it's you'." she parroted the exact impression Elena had done in the initial telling, when she'd been pacing with a line between her brow, hand faintly shaking as she read and re-read what he'd left her with. "'Your compassion is a gift, carry it with you as I will carry my regret, always and forever'?"

A beat.

"Is there any particular reason you can quote the letter word for word if you never read it?"

"Oh, that's not word for word, I always miss a bit. Don't change the subject. It was short and weirdly flattering, and it asked more questions than it answered. And the reason I know the words is because, again, we were trying to figure out what it meant. I thought it was flirty. Bonnie thought it was polite - again, not apologetic."

"What did Elena think?"

"We don't know," she said honestly. "She kept bringing it up, but she never said anything definitive about what it made her feel. Except confused."

There was a grateful reprieve.

"Is she well?" he murmured.

"Health wise? Sure. Her aunt and Alaric are making the house healthy, and stable - Ric keeps Jeremy pretty occupied, so he's not getting into trouble. Which, obviously, is a big thing for her. Now she can focus on school, and getting into college."

"Lovely. It's good to hear. She's due a break from the trials of life." Warmth filled his quieter words. "Is she happy?"

The skin on the back of her neck prickled in irritation. Not because he asked - because she knew the answer was _no_.

"Don't you Mikealsons have a system of keeping an eye on people from a distance?"

"We do, but I didn't want to do that to her."

"Why not? Pretty sure Klaus does it to me."

"I know," he said. "He does in the barest sense. He did set something up to keep informed of her status and major movements, but she only goes to and from school, and hasn't been in any danger for a while. I got rid of the other components."

"Why?"

"I didn't think it was strictly appropriate, and I didn't want the temptation to interfere."

"Would you?" she said. "Interfere?"

"I'd like to think that nothing will happen that I would feel the need to involve myself. I only knew Elena very briefly, but I understood that there was an immense amount of choice being taken out of her hands against her will, and every time she was directed by another person it grated on her like a chokehold. It would sit poorly with me to add to the issue."

"Oh my god, I totally get it," she said blankly. "I get it. The thing with you. She never explained it right."

"What thing with me?"

" _The_ thing with you. Why we had to sit down and write out all the pros and cons. Why you were so..." She considered. "A part of the puzzle of what her feelings for you were was if she liked you as a person, a protector, a love interest, a friend. But every time she was trying to explain, it never came out right. You-... You're like, charming."

"I feel like the note of revelation in your voice doesn't mean that's a compliment."

"Well Rebekah said you were a gentleman, but that doesn't mean much to me." Caroline pointed out. "God, you were hell for three inexperienced teenage girls to decipher. But I get it. I totally get it now."

"Get what?"

"Like-!" She threw her available hand up. "You made Elena feel valued for her brain, and not her blood, in a time when that was all anyone ever wanted from her. You were part of an active attempt on her life, but then you were making her feel safe at every other turn. You were treating her like she had some kind of strength, but you were the most powerful person in any room."

"There is a strength in her that I'll never know," he said mildly. "Don't mistake the distance I put between us for lack of concern. I was, and remain, quite fond of Elena."

Thoughts were tumbling in her head. She shouldn't say anything. It wasn't her place, and if Elena found out, she'd be doing some extreme grovelling for forgiveness. But Elijah seemed exactly like the guy that Elena had made him out to be. Caroline hadn't understood.

 _I just -_ there had been much hand flailing. _Don't know! He's nice!_

 _Stefan's nice! Matt's nice!_ Caroline had protested. _This guy is a walking suit with a stick up his ass!_

_No, no, that's - that's part of the armor. You don't get it. He's... it's something else. I don't know. He's -_

_Nice?_ Bonnie had guessed.

 _Yeah,_ Elena said weakly. _But also no. I don't know. He freaks me out, but not in a bad way. I don't know. I think I like him?_

 _Like him, as in, suck him off in the back of his car?_ had been her way of determining it.

 _Caroline, that's not helping,_ Bonnie chided.

At Elena's silence, Caroline rolled onto her knees.

_Oh my god, do you want to suck him off in the back of a car?_

Elena did an excellent impression of what a question mark felt like.

 _Oh, it's like that?_ Bonnie confirmed.

 _No, but it isn't - not - like that,_ Elena tried. _I don't know. I'm not sure. He's nice, but he's dangerous, and he's making me a part of this horrible thing, but it's on my terms? He has this - energy, around him, like a - gravitational pull. But also. He's a black hole. There's too many questions-_

 _Yeah,_ Caroline had said. _Like if he has a big stick, and if he knows how to poke someone with it._

 _Now that's something I actually want to know,_ Bonnie mentioned. _Just for a theory I'm working on about big dick energy._

 _He's got the energy,_ Elena grumbled. _Not sure about the dick._

Before she could stop herself, she blurted:

"She got _really_ mad at you for leaving. Not about the tunnels. The part where you left. She slept over my house for two nights to hide all the on and off crying from Jenna."

Silence.

Her heart did a weird droop in her chest, but it was mostly so it could get momentum for the terrific back flip it did.

"Oh, shit." She put the phone on her chest. "Klaus, my impulse control is on the fritz. Assist?"

"Coming," he said lazily, and turned the shower off.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She chewed her lip. It didn't stop the next words. "I think she thought you had more respect for her than to disappear without a goodbye."

"It wasn't for lack of respect," he told her. "I think very highly of Elena."

"No, what happened was you put her in a shitty, dangerous situation when you were in a bad mood, and you couldn't look her in the eye to say a proper sorry, and then you left," Caroline accused. She shut her eyes. "Now I'm the bad guy. I'm really sorry. I think I'm hungry."

The phone was gently taken from her fingers.

" _Broder_ ," Klaus said, and spoke in a different language. Elijah's voice was quiet as he replied in kind. The stream of words between them was quite mild, and all Caroline ever gleaned was that the elder brother wasn't mad at her.

She rubbed her eyes and put her elbows to her knees as she leaned over the side of the bed. Her skull bumped Klaus' side, and she wrapped an arm around his shower-warm skin, her hand finding him still somewhat damp.

"Are you naked?" she said, without opening her eyes.

She only knew he was talking to her because he switched to a lightly accented version of English.

"Yes. It's your turn now."

"What?" she said weakly. "Am I getting naked?"

"You can shower with your clothes on, but I think it'd be a better experience on the whole if you didn't," he said mildly. He stroked the back of her head. "Go on."

"Why would I go over there, when you're over here, and you're naked?" Her mindless hand cupped over the back of his knee, and dragged up through the reddish hair on his leg. She dug her nails into his ass, and looked up with hungry eyes to see his raunchy grin. "And my impulse control is not a thing that is currently happening to me?"

"Dresses," he said, bending to kiss her mouth.

"Fuck the dresses, I have some at home."

"Bethany," he reminded her.

The disgusted noise out of her mouth was swallowed by his. He kissed her cheek, and eased her up into standing, giving her backside a teasing little pat.

"Bye, Elijah," she mumbled, and gathered some clothes.

"He'd like to have your number, in the event of an emergency," Klaus informed her. "May I pass it along?"

"Yeah, sure, when will I ever need to call Elijah?" she shrugged, not particularly concerned. "I have you."

The beaming warmth of his smile made her actively turn around to see it. Her eyes followed the line of his body.

"Oh my god, the fuck. Get out of this room right now or I'm gonna make a Klaus-shaped hole in the wall and I don't care if Elijah hears."

"Anything you say, love," he mused, and didn't bother to get dressed on his way out.


	12. Elena

**Saturday Morning, 10:32 am. Outfits. **

"You're in trouble."

Her face was red, her hair was in a hasty bun on top of her head. She braced one hand on the changing room curtain, and the other on the wall.

Klaus looked up from his phone, eyes falling to the gown.

"I like that one, love. It's a sight against your hair."

"Do not change the subject. You're in trouble!" She gave him a look that might've actually boiled the blood of a lesser man. Shoving the curtain aside, she pointed to the swell of her belly, where there was a physical bump in her abdomen from all the blood she'd gulped down in the last few hours at his behest. "Look what you did!"

"I don't think it's noticeable to anyone else but you," he said fairly. He leaned his elbows to his knees, a grin spreading on his mouth. "Besides, I quite like the look of it, if I'm perfectly honest. You look satisfied and full."

"I do not _feel_ satisfied!" She hissed at him in a warning to shut up. The car ride had been spent with a bloodbag, and trying not to squirm while she revisited deep thoughts about getting him hard and leaking and leaving him to deal with it while she went dress shopping.

"If you want more, my supply will be at home when we're done here." He didn't have not one speck of remorse. He gave her a galling smirk that made her want to lob the dress at his stupid head.

"I don't want more blood. I want this dress thing to be done so we can go home and I can get you naked and -" Her upper lip lifted in a snarl, but at the click of approaching shoes, she turned her best smile on to megawatt status.

"Oh wow, that's stunning," the sales lady said, catching her in the doorway. "Very classic."

The dress was a soft lavender tulle, sweetheart neckline and thin shoulder straps. It fit her wonderfully from boob to hip with a tight rouching, but fell more naturally from the bottom line of silver beading to allow movement in her walk. It was cut at tea-length, making it more formal than a cocktail dress, but she knew that someone would think it was some version of salacious or matronly.

"No, it's not the one," she said. "I still need classic, and church-worthy, but I also need flattering. Think vintage glam. Something that wouldn't look out of place with an elbow length glove?"

"I'll see what we've got, but I honestly think that's the one," the lady told her. "Have you got some to pass out?"

"Oh, yeah, here." She was careful to replace everything on the hanger and keep it off the floor. This wasn't an inexpensive store, and she might need the brownie points for later if the occasion ever struck her to get another gown.

"I'll be right back."

"Thanks."

She turned side on and ran her hands over the bulge in her stomach. It was firm, and only a little outward pressure made her tender belly bulge. She trailed her touch up to her breasts, pressing then against her nipples to try and see what the dress would look like if she didn't look like she was in zero degrees.

"I've never known blood to make me bloat." Her mouth twisted. "I've definitely had more in one hit. I don't know why this is happening."

"Could be the vitamins," Klaus suggested. "We already produce the requisite, so the influx has no where to be absorbed for a little while. Some hospitals load them into the blood. Mystic Falls General might be joining the fad."

"It'd make sense," she sighed. "I have been feeling a little gross the last couple of times I've had any, to be honest."

"It won't matter for long. I've been looking forward to plying you with my personal supply, which is pure plasma." He blinked innocently up at her. "And a touch of bourbon."

"You don't need to get me drunk to act on impulse," she said tightly. "The sooner I find a dress, the sooner you and I are going home to take off some of the edge."

"What edge?" he cooed. Every inch of him was relaxed, as though what he said wasn't a downright tease. Only the glitter of triumph in his eyes let her know he was aware of his humor.

She glowered.

"Since I haven't found either of my dresses, and I've probably got like fifty billion missed calls and texts to deal with between here and tonight's rehearsal dinner, you and I are going to have no time for any of the fun stuff."

"Won't be fun if there's a deadline, sweetheart. I'm keeping you out on purpose to keep your hands to yourself. Besides," he said, arching both brows at her with a wicked little purse of his mouth. "I have had a shipment express on the way from one of the warehouses since we landed yesterday. There will be something to your standard in there that you will find by tonight, and I've decided on a dove grey suit and white shirt for the rehearsal dinner - very classic, and I'll match the tie to you. A simple all black for the wedding. Does that get rid of some of that awful edge you mentioned?"

Actually? Yes. Yes it did.

She felt a twinge of guilt for being crabby with him. Having known that the dresses were going to be a problem, she should've already had them sorted out. Done her due diligence for googling ahead and seeing what was stocked where.

Sighing, she rubbed her head.

"Actually, that's perfect. I love the thought of you in all black. It's really sexy." That last bit was supposed to be a thought and not said out loud. She peered at him from behind her hand, hoping he'd missed it.

He had not, judging purely by the raunchy smirk and devilish glitter in his eyes.

"You know," he said coolly. "You're unusually distracted for such an important shopping spree. I think you might be a little wound up."

"Oh really," she said, feigning surprise. "What gave you that idea?"

"The dinner plate pupils would probably be my first clue, if I had no idea how wet you'd been this morning, and with no release, too. If I couldn't see your eyes, the smell of you would be my next indication that you were preoccupied with some delicious little thought." He spread his legs at her settling in his chair like an arrogant king. "The way you keep rubbing you thighs together for just the barest hint of assistance is a close third."

"I also started drifting in the car."

"The car usually seems to do it."

"It's the proximity. The smell of you doesn't go away."

"What did you daydream?"

"Getting you all the way next to coming, and walking out to go shopping," she said lightly. "Using my mouth. Slurping a mess all over your jeans so you had to stay in the car, and leaving you to choose if you finish by yourself or wait for me to come back."

"Now see, that sounds remarkably like a torrid little game I'd love to play. As long as you are aware there is such thing as _taking turns_ , and what is done to me I will endure to have done to you."

"If you ever get me that close and filthy and walk away without making me come," she told him matter-of-factly. "There isn't an audience on this earth that would stop me from getting what I wanted."

"Have you noticed that all of your grandest fantasies lean into exhibitionism?" His hand moved over his inner thigh to adjust the length inside his jeans. Not all the way hard, but getting there. It was discreet until he pointed it out to her.

She had heard what he said, but her mouth flooded with ravenous saliva and she couldn't formulate a thought in her head. All she could see was him pulling out his half-interested cock, sprawled in the chair, and making her kneel in a dress that wasn't hers to suck him nice and hard.

Her hand moved against the fabric of the dress, too many layers for the pressure to make a difference to her unstimulated sex. With a deep breath, she turned willfully to the mirror, and made her stiff arm go to her side.

He was watching her in the reflection, hungry and indulgent, his eyes skimming the skin of her bare back, and legs.

"Flip the skirt up," he said casually. "Show me what it looks like when you pleasure yourself to the thought of me."

She shut her eyes.

"This isn't real," she said bluntly.

"It's real," he assured her. "No one can see you but me. We could change that, if you like?"

"This isn't real," she said again, more strained. "This is another stupid drift-y fantasy. I'm not really here. I'm gonna open my eyes and he's gonna be talking to me about something innocent and I'm not gonna know what's happening. It's not real."

"Caroline?" The concern made her crack open an eye. Klaus was standing behind her, brow lowered. "Sweetheart, I am real."

Caroline gave him a Look. In her head, it was very dangerous and he'd be wise not to push, but apparently the lack of wilting under it made him a physical person. Blinking open her eyes, some of the tension in her shoulders evaporated.

A slightly frightened breath passed her lips.

"It's getting hard to tell," she whispered.

He wasn't being flirty, when he took her face in his hands. He anchored her to that moment with the slow side swiping of his eyes, staring intently at her. With a slightly narrowed look, he bent his head to her mouth and wuffed quietly at her breath, straightening to study her eyes again.

"You're desiccating," he murmured. "How are you still desiccating?"

"I ate," she croaked. "You saw me. I'm still bloated."

The sound of the sales lady's heels came clicking down the hall, so she had to really work on tempering what she'd say. Curling her hands around his wrists, she dragged her eyes from his to the dresses piled in the lady's arms, but before they could even be presented to her, she had decided not to like any of them. She gave him a forlorn look.

"Not a right now, problem."

"You should take from the vein," he insisted softly.

She jolted like he'd hit her.

" _No_."

"You're not well," he murmured. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "Something's not right, love."

"No, I can't."

"I'll compel you to stop, just after a few mouthfuls."

Pulling her head out of his hands, she turned her shoulder roughly to his chest, shoving him away.

Dismissing the human with a curt wave of her hand didn't sit too well with her, but what sat less well was the instinct to tell him _yes, I want the blood from her veins_. At least the woman could live to go home and gripe about that one spoiled blonde bitch at the shop.

Laying a hand on his chest, she straightened her arm to get some air between them, so her riotous brain wasn't still giving her glimpses of sucking the blood from the inside of the woman's thighs. Or her full, porcelain breasts. The crimson trails of blood would look absolutely decadent on such creamy tits, trailing down her soft chubby belly to the mound between her legs. Would she have hair? Would that stop Caroline from lapping up the slick of blood and arousal from the slit of her?

"Slightly gay thoughts are happening," she said blankly. "That's new."

Holding her warm face in both hands, she breathed in deep, and tried to remain calm. That was unfortunately not going to last for very long, because Klaus decided to crowd her into the change room and yank the curtain shut.

Against her weak, protesting fists, he kissed her. He pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders and dragged his mouth over the freed skin, tugging the skirt off her hips to pool in a dusty purple pile around her feet. He kissed both her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth for a brief scrape of his teeth.

Her hands clutched his head, head tilting back to thud lightly against the changing room cubicle. She lifted a leg to hook over his hip, trying to grind down on the crotch of his jeans.

"This stupid dress!" she hissed, yanking the layers up between them.

While she was there, a brief tug tore the side of her panties completely off, leaving them hanging uselessly from one leg. She grabbed his hand and tried to steer it to the burning wetness there, and when he curled his fingers inside she shuddered like she'd been electrocuted.

"Caroline," Klaus said patiently.

The sales lady was gone. He had not followed her into the booth. Her hands were in fists, biting pain of her nails slicing into her palms, again. She was trembling all over, chest dragging in deep breaths of calming air.

"This time it was slightly gay thoughts," she admitted. "Then I drifted into you. Is this real?"

He spied her neatly folded clothes behind her, and grabbed them in a singular fist, putting them determinedly in her arms.

"It's real," he said, clipped. "We're going home. Pure plasma and bed rest. Not an option."

"But the rehearsal dinner-" she complained.

"I don't give a single fuck about that dinner," he told her, and picked up her hand to give her knuckles a kiss. When that didn't inspire a smile or acquiesce, he latched onto her mouth, bringing her bodily into him until she mewled against his lips and dug her hands into his shirt. "These people are nothing to me, sweetheart, and in a handful of decades they'll be nothing to you. I can undo what damage might be done by your absence tonight, but I will not allow damage being done to you. Don't argue with me."

"Okay," she gasped. "Okay! Not arguing. I can't - argue - when I feel - like this."

"That's all the more troubling," he said, and kissed her throat. He lingered a moment, sucking a mark against her collarbone.

"Can we go home now?" she said, taking care not to be so shrill when he was near her mouth.

"Home now," he murmured. His hands took her waist and he sighed, lifting a heavy head. He seemed a little glassy eyed himself, but ultimately concerned, cupping her face. He kissed her mouth again, this time slower. "I'll look after you."

"What if I don't find a dress in your pile of things?" she fretted.

"We can cross that bridge when we get to it," he assured her. "We have bigger fish to fry. You'd look fantastic in a hessian bag, anyway, and the bridesmaids will look a hideous mess regardless of their faces - you've seen the dresses Bethany wants."

He towed her out of the boutique with a single tap of his card on the machine to buy the dress she was still in. The glare of the sales lady was only tempered by the fact that they paid for the gown, and left a twenty per cent tip.

He dug out his phone to send a text to the driver to be picked up asap, and Caroline felt dazed when she looked at their linked fingers.

_This is... really natural._

On her own phone, there were many, many texts. Maggie, Aunt Linda, Bethany. Nancy had weighed in, and Mark, Jean, Granny, Moira and Gretel. Two unknown numbers.

She pulled Klaus' arm around her for a quick squeeze, needing the support. She snatched her phone away from his plucking fingers just before he took it.

"I was just going to read the latest," he said.

"I kind of don't want you to." She scrolled through the list with her lips pressing together. "Just at a quick glance, I think you'll probably be more offended than I will."

"They can't say anything about me I haven't already heard."

"They aren't saying anything abou-... Nope, they did. Apparently they're straight out telling me that you were hired to pretend to love me. They're also talking about pressing charges with the fight."

"Nonsense. Everyone affected was compelled to never further the issue legally, and the only injuries are pride and ego."

"Exactly. Which is why I need you to send me the video of them starting it, so when they go on about emotional damage we can hold that up in court and sucker punch the air out of their lungs." She scrolled through the many unopened messages to find one under one of the unknown numbers, that just said: _Thank you for your honesty today. Feel free to contact me - E_. "So, your brother thinks we're going to the bone zone, huh?"

"Elijah assumed we'd done little else," he said with a raunchy smirk. "He's unfortunately aware of what I can be like when I'm squirreled away with a woman of my perusal. You'd shudder to know how many times I've been walked in on, in a thousand years."

"Yeah, somehow I think you don't mean I'd be, 'shuddering' in embarrassment," she muttered. She looked up at him with a small smile. "And the attempt to distract me from the persistent hallucinating is very appreciated. Thanks."

"Do you mind my asking if these episodes have been more or less frequent with me here?" he asked abruptly.

"They have been really... intense, but-..." She realized that any of her previous daydreaming had been all related to sex and blood. Now she was thinking about it, maybe she had been losing it for a while. "I think-... I think I was having them before you got here, but - that was like, a daydream. I could still autopilot and react to the real world. This is different. I can't see the real world, when this starts."

"Is it always sex?" he prompted.

She shook her head.

"The one in there was blood," she said, and felt a little woozy. "You told me to drink from her, right?"

"I suggested it, and I stand by it."

"Yeah, well." Her mouth felt dry. "It kicked off another-... I thought about the way the blood would look on her skin. I wanted it to pour down her body from the bites I left on her boobs. And then I could follow the paths to... down her..."

"Stay with me." He gave her a squeeze, and wrapped the other arm around her when she hid her face against his chest. "Stay here. I need to find out what the triggers are, love. Sex, blood - a lack of either can drive a vampire to madness, particularly if you haven't been indulging. I know you haven't meant to abstain, but you have. And now you're suffering for it."

"But I'm desiccating?" she squeaked. "How?"

"I don't know." He kissed her shoulder. "But we'll find out. I'll cast a wide net. We'll have answers by tonight."

She was woozy. Really woozy. Her knee buckled and she clutched his chest.

"I feel like..." she said softly. "I can still smell blood."

When she tilted her head back to see his face, he was not looking down at her. The seam of his mouth was popped open, and he didn't blink, immobile in shock - maybe a touch of horror?

But what would make _him_ look like that?

Caroline turned and was glad for his arms holding her up.

( _And back_ , whispered a filthy voice in her mind. _He's holding you back_.)

Elena was standing there, bleeding freely, swaying slightly from side to side. She looked like she'd lost a fight with the wrong end of a horse just to be run over by a car.

Caroline's eyes made several darting tracks, connecting dots in her mind. Black eye, swollen nose. Mottled fingers against her throat. One arm bent over her chest had matching blue prints on the wrist. The reason her arm was bent up like that was because the triangle cup of her baby doll shirt had been entirely ripped off. There were flat, and sharp, teeth marks on her chest. Two visible fingernails were bloody and broken. There was a crust of dry blood on her lip, made black with all the dirt that was encrusted in her skin and clothes, casting her in an entire shade of grey where she wasn't streaks of red or tears.

"Caroline," she said blandly.


	13. Without Words

The wonderful thing about having a friend for your whole life was the uncanny ability to communicate in a language that no one else could learn.

Caroline said: "No."

Caroline meant: _I can see that something terrible has happened to you, and while I'm not aware of the details, I can tell by your eyes that it's bad. I never want bad things to happen to you. This isn't fair._

Elena said: "Damon."

Elena meant: _It is bad, and it's made worse by the fact that everything you see here was done to me by someone I was supposed to trust. In addition to all the physical pain I'm in, the emotional knife was a little duller, and it dragged when it tore me open, because it was held by someone I loved._

Caroline felt her hands wrap around Klaus' wrists to keep them pinned to her waist. She didn't trust herself. Her voice was especially soft what she managed to ask:

"When?"

_How long have you been hurt? How long has this been going on? I spoke to you at 2:30 this morning, and you seemed okay. Were you faking it the whole time? Did I leave you to suffer alone, like this?_

Elena nodded.

"After."

_No, not at all. I meant what I said, and we only just fought at the house. After I hung up from you, this happened. I really was okay at the time we were speaking, so there was nothing you could've done to prevent this._

Her jeans were caked in mud and blood. Both knees were completely torn, scraped to bleeding. There were dark finger prints laid on her calves like the devil himself had reached up from hell to drag her down. A daylight ring hung loosely from the middle finger of her other hand, the wrist there swollen and purple.

"He's dead." Caroline guessed.

Elena nodded. Her lip trembled.

_I did what I had to._

Then her eyes tracked to a hoodie that was being held out between them. Klaus. She'd forgotten he was even there. He was standing behind Caroline with an arm around her waist to keep her held back, but extending the small comfort he could.

"Klaus?" Elena realized softly, and looked at Caroline.

_What is he doing here? Is he dangerous?_

"The wedding," she explained.

_I needed him for the assist. I wasn't going to tell you because you'd freak out._

"Oh."

_Yeah, of course. That makes sense._

"He's okay."

_He won't touch you._

"Okay." A shaky hand wearing a too-big ring lifted and took the offered hoodie. "I'm hurt."

_I couldn't even get away from him right now if I tried, so I'm gonna take your word for it. I don't really have a choice. Also, I can't get this on by myself._

"Me?"

_Do you want my help?_

"Please."

_I'm not gonna ask the guy who wanted to kill me to make an army of super hybrids._

Caroline shoved Klaus' hand from her belly and took the hoodie, easing it up Elena's arm to settle it around her shoulder. There was a deep gauge that bled heavily, an open chunk of skin that revealed a wedge of bone where the flesh had been torn away. It had such a distinct shape, Caroline could almost see Damon's teeth when he dug them into her.

For the fear, the shock, the misery, the hatred, the grief - her hunger didn't so much as stir. She very gently pulled the hoodie on to settle on the wet wounds, and stood in front of Elena to hide her from any one else's sight.

With the most delicate touch, she eased her tiny friend's hand from her breast. There were teeth marks there, too, and bruising like hands. If Caroline lingered any more on the extent of the injuries, she was going to burst into tears.

Elena didn't need tears, she needed help.

So she maneuvered the sleeve over the bulge of broken bones in her arm, and zipped it all the way up to her throat.

"Come back to Klaus' house with me," she said quietly. "Drink my blood in the car. You don't have to say anything."

Elena nodded.

Klaus opened the back door of the car and demanded the partition went up. He stepped away from them as they approached, kindly sensitive to the fact that Elena had been through hell and already didn't trust him.

But she didn't even look at him when she limped to the door, and eased herself in with a grateful exhale.

Klaus shut the door, barring Caroline from entering, and snatched her chin in his hand to force her to look at him.

"No matter what," he said quietly. The compulsion took root in her brain. "You will not show her your fangs. You can't smell her blood."

_I love you._

She had never felt more in love with a person in her life. In that second, the pieces of her roaring soul seared together. She _loved_ him.

This wonderful, clever man, with his powerful, strategic brain. He'd given her the assurance of control before she could even consider it a problem. He knew how important Elena was. He knew she was going through the motions of slipping into different worlds triggered by blood and sex. So he made her safe to one of the dearest people in her life.

She nearly said it, too. Her idiot mouth, made dumb by shock and pure adoration, nearly spoke the words.

_I love you._

He interrupted before she could get it out.

"It's just in case, love. Never hurts to be certain. I've no doubt that you can keep your gorgeous control. Besides. I will give her the blood she needs, because you are sick, and we don't know if it'll work for her, or against you. I'll bleed it into a glass. She won't have to touch me."

_Oh my god, I love you._

_I love you._

Her kiss was too-quick and did nothing to explain the gravity of what she wanted to say. But Elena was in the car, in agony that Caroline couldn't begin to fathom, so she made it quick to pull open the door and get in there with her friend.

Elena didn't do much of anything, staring at the tops of her bare, dirty feet. One of them was completely fine, but the other was swollen. No visible bruising, as yet, but that didn't mean anything beyond the fact that the damage was deeper than the surface.

Caroline passed Elena the glass of blood, then had to steer it up to her mouth. She winced when it clicked the human's teeth.

"Sorry," she offered.

Elena sipped. Then she swallowed. Then she drained the glass, tongue darting out to lick the remnants on the inner rim.

Caroline passed it back for Klaus to bleed in again.

The next glass was slung back in a single mouthful. Elena rubbed her tongue over her lips, looked into the red smear on the glass, and put it in the cup holder on her door.

"Good now," she said roughly, and tilted her head in Caroline's direction. She listed, hesitating only slightly, then rested her cheek to Caroline's shoulder. "I'm good."

Everything in Caroline wanted to contradict that. Everything. Literally every bone in her body. How she didn't just blurt: _Pretty sure you're not!_ was a fucking mystery.

Instead of speaking and making an already awful situation worse with blind, unhelpful honesty, she lifted her chin over Elena's head.

"Tell me if you want me to hug you," Caroline said evenly.

"Not yet. Still hurt." The trembling of her body made Caroline think of hypothermia.

"He's dead now," was the only consolation she could offer. It was the only thing she kept telling herself.

"He let me." Elena's thumb swiped the ring. She shifted on the seat with a pained grunt, and something inside her ribs clicked into place to heal. "I think he let me."

"Let you take the ring?"

"Yeah." The admission was really, really calm. "I think he realized I wasn't her when I told him to kill me. She'd never ask to die."

Caroline didn't have to be looking at Klaus to see the sickened look twist on his face. She felt it. From the corner of her eye, she watched him rub his face, then hunch forward and drag that hand over his mouth. He was trying very hard not to look, but Elena's hand edged up under the hem of her shirt to touch wet, torn flesh, and he got crazy eyes that turned to stare out the window.

"Didn't know I could hurt like that," Elena mumbled. "Worse than a car accident."

Caroline inhaled very, very deeply through her mouth, and nodded.

"He's dead now," she said again. "You're safe with us."

"He wanted me to be hurt," Elena went on. "He said broken hearts never heal, but my heart was only for me. So he said he'd break me to hurt my heart. So I knew what it was like to bleed there."

Hot tears lined Caroline's lashes. No words came to mind except to mention:

"He's dead, and you're safe now."

Elena made a low, gravelly noise like a hum.

"He wanted her to break. He wanted me...I feel broken." Her husky voice made the statement sound certain. "He was so hateful. He hated me. That-... He just... hurt me... Kept hitting me. Then he - I think I might've been dying. He healed - he started again. I think - it was like -... I think he was high. His blood didn't - taste, right."

Caroline could do nothing but stare. She was concerned about the fact her very human friend had consumed enough vampire blood to know what it tasted like when it was wrong, but moreover about the extent of her injuries.

If Damon had healed them, did that mean he'd done something worse that Caroline couldn't see?

"Elena?" was all she got out, her throat thick and unwilling to ask. How far had he gone? What else had he done?

"He didn't force me," Elena confirmed. Her voice was factual, carefully devoid of emotion, when she added: "He tried. He couldn't."

Small mercies.

Dark eyes unfocused for a long moment, and she looked out the window, hands loosely caged over her lower stomach. There was a fine trembling to her, a shift as various muscles clenched and unclenched. Her poor heart was banging a mile a minute, and sweat had started to glaze her skin.

"He was angry at you," she told the window.

 _Me?_ Caroline wondered, and glanced helplessly at Klaus, who was already watching her, scowling faintly. _Or you?_

"I'm... sorry?" Caroline said quietly.

"We can't be sorry, Care," Elena murmured. "We love each other. No man will ever change that. He knew we'd kissed. He'd read it in my diary once. Read about the dreams."

Caroline was pretty solidly confused. Elena and she had kissed maybe three times - electric and giggly, always drunk - always to tease Matty and Tyler and all the other dipshit boys who wanted to ogle. If she had been any version of turned on, it probably had everything to do with having an audience, didn't it?

But what did stolen kisses have to do with what had transpired?

"What dreams?" Her stupid mouth asked instead.

"The dreams I have about you," Elena mumbled. "The soft ones."

The _soft ones_?

The only time Elena had used 'soft' to describe something other than fabric was when Bonnie had found a raunchy novella in a bus stop. They had taken turns to dramatically read it to each other, and Elena always enjoyed going through the 'soft' bits.

Romantic.

Caroline... didn't know what to say. She had only been in shocked silence for a breath, maybe a handful of seconds, when Elena looked at her with her awfully swollen and discolored face.

"Do you hate me too?" she prompted.

"No," Caroline said before she'd finished speaking. "Never."

"He hated it. Hated how much I love you. He made a joke about one of the dreams, once, but when he saw it wasn't a joke to me, he got mad." One shockingly bloody eye swiveled around to Klaus' hands, then back out the window. "They all get mad. It's all fun and games to watch when you're their entertainment, and then someone catches feelings. Then they hate it."

"Matt isn't like that," Caroline reminded her.

"Matt's a homophobe," Elena retorted dryly.

"He isn't - a homophobe," Caroline tried. "He's just-... sheltered."

"Well, Damon wasn't," Elena replied bitterly. "He thought it was so fucking hot, that I had kissed you, and dreamt about you, and wanted to touch you, right up until he figured out that I loved you more than him. Then he started pushing you away, and I let him."

Her mouth was so super dry.

"I didn't know that."

"You know I love you," Elena murmured, still staring out the window.

"I didn't know it was-... soft," she whispered.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," Elena admitted quietly. "So I let him push you away. I let him get distance between us. He was so jealous. I wasn't allowed to write in any more diaries."

"What? Why?"

"Because he didn't want me to remember the things I thought of in a bed that wasn't his."

The tiny human was gazing so resolutely out the window that Caroline mistook the stillness for strength. The trembling in her body had dialed up to something near seizure like and she carefully reached out a hand to lay it on Elena's delicate fingers, stroking down the length of her grubby hands.

"I love you," she reminded her.

"I love you," Elena replied, auto-pilot sure. She swallowed, her inhale shuddering and deep. "I love you so much he thought I was Katherine, and that I was punishing him for what he did to you."

A gentle breeze could've knocked her over. She had thought, for the longest time, that Damon's treatment of her was dead and buried, something they brushed over and didn't discuss. She hadn't ever gone on to explain what he'd actually compelled her to do, and what the results had been.

He'd never demanded sex or service, but that hadn't meant it was her choice. She had understood they were in a relationship, and so she slept with him, but only because of that. When everything had boiled up, Caroline didn't get a chance to explain the whole capacity of her feelings to anyone - she was too manic and uncomfortable to try.

The tension in the car tightened like a hand in her chest, and casting a glance at Klaus revealed that he had not missed the untold story. He was watching Elena now, trying to shield the glow of yellow from behind his eyelashes.

"What did he do to Caroline, that Katerina would make him suffer?" he asked, very quietly.

"It doesn't matter," Caroline said promptly.

"It does," Elena muttered.

It hadn't gone unnoticed that Elena's necklace was gone, or that she wasn't on vervain. A little bit disturbing, given Caroline had known for a long time what Damon was willing to compel girls to do. That being said, she hadn't been aware that Damon had left Elena open to compulsion like that.

"How long has he been messing with you?" Caroline prompted.

"A week or so. It was the only way he'd let me go and see you on Friday. He compelled us not to touch." Elena shook her head slightly. "I didn't cry when he met the sun. I thought about you. About what he did. What he made you feel. I wanted him on fire."

Caroline trailed her fingertips over Elena's knuckles and very carefully threaded her own through them. She leaned over and very carefully pressed a kiss to the undamaged shoulder, inhaling Elena's skin and Klaus' scent. It was immediately addictive - she left her face hovering there, feeling her lashes fluttering.

"I'm worried," Caroline admitted.

"No. You don't need to. I can feel everything healing. Now I want to do it again," Elena said softly. "I want to see him in pain again. Longer. I wish I could've hit him more."

Caroline decided to worry about the violence later. Her mouth pressed another gentle kiss to the hoodie and Elena's fingers tightened on her hand.

"It'll take quite a long time, to heal everything," Klaus offered in a low voice. Caroline had no idea what he was feeling by the sound of it. Only that it must've been a lot, to put that much gravel there. "It could take the rest of the day, maybe part of tomorrow. You're more than welcome to any of my resources."

Elena lifted her head slightly. Though she looked in Klaus' general direction, she didn't quite make herself look on his physical form. Then to Caroline, who she managed to make fleeting eye contact with before off-setting it to the space above her ear.

"I want Caroline," she said firmly.

Awe filled the dead heart in her chest.

"You're her best friend," he drawled. "The love you have for each other is beyond me. I'd be an idiot to attempt to get in the middle of it."

"Do you care I've dreamt about her?" She was watching his hands, her body locking up tight. Prepared for his backlash. She lifted her chin - still couldn't meet his face. "Do you care that we've kissed?"

"No," he said easily. Caroline even believed him. "I understand. How could I not? The feel of her is golden, and her mouth is a marvel. Did you two kiss often?"

"No," Caroline murmured.

"Not as much as we could've," Elena added on. Her expression, made hard and ready to be hurt, had gone a little lax.

"We kissed for the boys," Caroline said quietly, and didn't miss Elena's flinch. "When they watched. At parties."

"Not always," Elena grumbled. She stopped glaring and put her eyes down on their linked hands, watching the mottled skin on hers start to fade. "The... lipbalm."

Caroline hadn't remembered.

It had been in the era of Katy Perry's Kissed a Girl, and everyone was talking about flavored chapstick. Remembering brought up a swell of warmth in her chest, and she tried to be subtle about the lingering look she gave Elena's sore face.

God, they could barely stop the nervous giggling to try out the different flavors on each other. Stashed between them a handful of different balms in their greedy hands, they applied a slick coat and then sat on the bed.

Elena had been so young. So impish and slender. Nothing about her was womanly, still just a child. She had been giggling every time they inclined their heads together, too reluctant to make the final pass.

"It's not that it's wrong," she kept saying. "It just feels weird. I don't know if I can do this, Care. It's kinda dumb."

Caroline had gone into the experiment with precisely zero intentions of any questions to her sexuality. She had really wanted to be a good kisser for all the boys she'd end up dating. Seeing Elena back down made her panic a little, so she grabbed her face and bought her in.

They stayed very still for the first few seconds, then Caroline slowly tilted her head to fit her nose against Elena's cheek better. Her boobs had only just started growing and they were sensitive - extremely sensitive when a small hand reached out and covered one.

She whimpered against Elena's lips and made her pull away sharply.

"Oh my god, are you okay? Sorry- I'm not pushing you away, I swear - I don't know what to do with my hands?!" 

Caroline could feel her heart in her throat. She wet her lips.

"You can put them on me wherever," she said dismissively. "But wipe off that chapstick because it's gross. Is mine okay?"

Elena had nodded, wide eyed, while she wiped her sleeve over her mouth. The next flavor was breezed on and she surged forward, her hands going to Caroline's breasts to elicit a soft sound of surprise once more.

The vanilla bliss had been Caroline's favorite on Elena, and Elena had adored bubblegum on Caroline.

They practiced kissing long enough to come up swollen and pink and panting for air. Things in her panties had started happening, and Elena was increasingly grabby, but they didn't stop until they heard the cruiser pull in the drive.

Despite not actually doing anymore than cop a feel and kiss, they scrambled apart to look nonchalant when Sheriff Forbes came in to say hello and ask if they wanted pizza.

"You were my first kiss," Caroline said, voice soft.

"You were mine," Elena replied.

Some of the fog lifted from her eyes, though she still didn't quite look at Caroline in the face. It was clear that there was some kind of emotional block that had been doing some of the leg work to make sure that her physical trauma was muffled beneath it; with her brain distracted from Damon, she grimaced and folded forward, gasping in pain at the pull of many, many hurts.

"Ow," she grunted.

"Can I do anything?" Caroline asked weakly.

"I'm getting blood on your dress," Elena replied, shifting awkwardly. She made a noise of pain when she tried to sit up, then rested her unblemished cheek on the poof of Caroline's skirts. "Sorry. I can't sit up. My back, and-... My stomach."

"It's fine," Caroline hastened to mention. "It's totally fine. The dress isn't important."

"Isn't it the wedding weekend?" Elena groaned. She shut her eyes, the blackened one welling with a tear. The brow above it was ticking as though the nerve damage was healing. "Isn't - don't you need to look super good?"

"Uhm!" Caroline said, a touch too loudly to be considered normal. "I'm - not sure - that really matters?"

"I'm fine," Elena panted. To directly contradict that, she screwed up her face and shifted against the seat. Two clunks in her arm made her body rear up on one side, her hand shifting from her sore stomach to her forearm. " _Ow_. I'm fine. It's - fine. Talk to me about literally anything else. What are you going to wear to the wedding if this isn't it?"

Caroline felt the disbelief wash over her in a wave.

"I'm not going to the wedding," she said.

"What? Why not? Wasn't there a- _ah_!" Elena curled forward. Something deep in her body cracked - _hip_ , Caroline's brain supplied, but she wasn't sure why she knew that. Elena heaved hard, and the fine bones in her foot started to weld back together, the sound of it like far away cellophane being crinkled. After a deep breath, she went on. "Wasn't there a grand plan to be perfect and shove it up Bethany's ass?"

"Elena," Caroline said blankly. "I'm not going to the wedding when you're like this."

"Why?" She cracked open an eye that was still red with bloody bolts, a tear spilling to settle on the still swollen bridge of her nose. "Klaus said I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Caroline said sternly. "You need love and support."

"I need blood and rest," Elena countered roughly. She went tense - another _pop_ as something inside her settled. The grateful slump of her body allowed the free panting she did against Caroline's many skirts. "You don't need to be there for that."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Caroline repeated. "Absolutely not happening."

"But _Bethany_." Elena blinked open the other eye.

"But you." Caroline rose both brows at her. A tender touch trailed over a side of her face, and Elena's lids went to half mast. "It's not gonna happen. You're too important to me."

"I don't want you to miss out on the epic feel of a well-deserved one-up," Elena explained. "And I _especially_ don't want you to keep looking at me like that when I'm trying to not think about what just happened."

Caroline frowned.

"Then I'll change my face," she said. "We can put on bad horror movies and yell at the idiots. Wait until you see the size of Klaus'-"

" _Ew_!"

"Projector," Caroline finished pointedly. "The screen is massive, and you're gross."

"You're gross. I'm fine. I don't want to watch horror movies - my life is a horror movie." With a self-depreciative smile, she teased: "And not one of the good ones, either. A stupid teen-movie with bad visual effects and a soap opera worthy amount of drama."

"Well - _fine_ , we can put on a chick-flick and dissect feminism, whatever," Caroline scolded. "Legally Blonde is always good, but we'll do whatever you want. It'll be distracting and wholesome for the both of us. I don't have to deal with my family, you don't have to deal with - the Thing."

"What about Klaus?" Elena asked. She didn't look at him still.

"What _about_ him? He just said you could stay," Caroline said, trying to make her tone less agitated. Elena was like, not wanting her? Maybe it was the weird tone of conversation they'd gone down - because Damon was weird and jealous? But maybe it was because of the hybrid. "If you don't want to stay at the mansion, we can go back to my place. I don't care. Wherever works for you."

"What about Elijah?" Elena said. There was only a touch of curiosity, under the pinch of hope. Then, too quickly: "Won't he be like, offended we're invading his house?"

Caroline didn't bat an eye.

"Like he's gonna mind you on his couch for the weekend." She rolled her eyes to maximize the effect of her casual delivery. "We were literally speaking about you this morning over breakfast."

A tiny flicker of light went on behind Elena's eyes.

"Why? What did he say?"

"Oh, you know. Klaus and I had a fight yesterday, so he gave some epic big brother council about flowers and apologies, to which I said-"

"The Note of Crushed Dreams wasn't an apology." Elena's mouth twitched. "I don't think that would've went over with him too well."

"We had a long talk about feelings, and lists. I might make him a list of his own," Caroline said, mock-brightly. "I think he wanted to see some of the spreadsheets, but he didn't ask."

"Uh huh," Elena said with good humor.

The phone in her hand was still opened on Elijah's message. Though the concept of Fate had been something she subscribed to her whole life, the fact that the stars had aligned to make this message clear was enough to give her goosebumps.

 _So_ , she tapped. _You need to be in Mystic Falls, pronto. Elena related. Not kidding. The timing is hilarious. SOS. - C_

"Wasn't he out at some business thing?" she said sweetly, looking at Klaus, who was already waiting with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Today, yes. He'll be home in a few hours. Well enough in time that if Elena insists you should go to the rehearsal dinner, we can still make it."

"No bras after 6," she quipped. "Doesn't apply when we're out of the house. Just so you know."

"Well this day gets better and better," he mused. "At least the shipment with the gowns will be waiting by the time we get there. Perhaps you two can take a look through and see what you can find."

"I might get a shower in first," Elena said lightly. Even though her fingers were bruised and the nails were torn, she tucked her hair behind her ear, then wrapped that hand around Caroline's knee. "I don't want to get blood all over the place."

Caroline's phone buzzed.

_On my way - E._


	14. Care

** Saturday. Mikealson Estate. Borrowed Bathroom (Door shut tight) **

Caroline slid the pair of scissors under the hoodie and carefully maneuvered them up the sleeve, peeling back the congealed layer and whispering her apologies as Elena cringed. The babydoll top was discarded with a wet slap on the floor - all of the liquid in it was blood. The jeans needed cutting off, and the panties too.

There weren't any words. Sure, there had been some things that had come to light about Elena's emotions in regards to her that Caroline had never suspected, but she was not able to think about it when her friend was in such a terrible condition.

Elena didn't even move to put her hand over the neatly kept hairs on her crotch. She just held her sore arm and rolled her shoulders forward, staring at Caroline with her lids shadowing the depths of her eyes.

"He didn't rape me," she said again.

Caroline rose into standing, gently plucking a hair caked in blood from Elena's shoulder.

"Do you want me to help you in?" Caroline said softly.

"I want you to hug me," Elena told her. She shut her eyes, listing toward Caroline. "I just-... I can't remember what it's like to feel loved."

"I love you," Caroline promised her. She was careful to receive the naked human in her arms. The urge to squeeze was all but ripped out of her head when she caught a glance of them in the long mirror in Rebekah's borrowed bathroom.

The length of Elena's spine was still... not quite right. Her hip was black and purple, fading into yellow. There was a nasty open gash on the side of her thigh that had closed up with black crust, and her haunches were all battered with dirt.

Her hands laid carefully on the human as though her skin was made of a bubble. It was Elena who clung, shaking, her hands insistently dug into the bare part of Caroline's upper back. She rested her heavy head on Caroline's shoulder, then sank, mouth moving sluggishly to her breast.

Caroline didn't move. Elena didn't either.

"I love you," Elena told her heart in a slightly slurred voice. She pressed a gentle kiss to the skin and shifted to put one arm around Caroline's narrow waist. "I'm gonna be okay. You can go."

"You sure?" Caroline murmured. Her fingers were very careful on the snags in Elena's hair. "It's gonna hurt."

"I'll call if I need you," Elena promised. She pulled away with a small smile. "It's just a bath, Care."

"I don't want you to be alone," Caroline announced.

"You'll hear me," Elena assured her. "I promise. I just need a minute to myself. I just wanna start feeling clean again."

Daintily, she perched on the edge of the bath and turned to put her feet in the lukewarm water. There was evidently little scratches on her legs because she halted with a little wince, and looked over her shoulder to where Caroline was nervously twisting her fingers together.

"It's just-" she blurted. "Elena I didn't know I'd been a - _problem_ , for you. With- anyone."

It seemed indelicate to bring up the elder Salvatore, but she had to confirm. Had the extent of Elena's injuries been because he hated Katherine, or because he felt guilty for what he'd done?

"You're not a problem," Elena said in her husky voice. Her eyes flicked to Caroline's fretting hands, and then up to her face. At least she could make eye contact. "We can talk about it later. Like, way later. What he did to me... was not because of you. Okay?"

"It wasn't because of _you_ ," Caroline insisted. "You know that too, right?"

"It was because of who I look like," Elena agreed. Her eyes dropped, and her hand went to cover her intimate areas.

Caroline felt like she'd lost something. When her fragile human friend turned away, her instinct was to latch on to her elbow and gently steer her back to face her, putting very careful hands around her healing face.

"Elena," she said, her voice small and girlish. "It was his fault."

"I don't think it was. There was something wrong, Caroline. And his eyes... It was like looking into a shark's," she murmured. Her gaze focused on Caroline's mouth. "He was all predator, and he was starving. He wanted to hurt me. Because I look like her."

"That's his problem," Caroline told her firmly. Her hands came off Elena's face to delicately cup around her biceps. Goosebumps burst at the new heat, and Elena worried her lip with her teeth. "Hey. I'm serious. It wasn't you."

"No," Elena replied quietly. Swallowing, her dark eyes managed to lift to Caroline's for a brief second. "You can go now. I'm okay. I need to get some of this nasty off of me before Elijah gets here."

Ordinarily, Caroline would've loved to have commented on the fact that even after being beaten, healed, and beaten again, Elena was worried about what the eldest Original might think of her cleanliness.

"You sure?" She hesitated with a small smile. "We used to shower together when we were little?"

"And when we were drunk." Elena didn't look at her anymore. In fact, she turned her face completely down, and turned to the side, her shoulders hitching near her ears. "It's fine Care. I'm okay. I can handle it. You can go now."

"I can just sit here-" She motioned to the toilet with the shut lid.

"I want to be alone," Elena insisted. There was a pause. "Thanks. I want to be alone. I'll call out if I need you."

Caroline didn't want to leave. She thought about all the different things she could say to avoid that eventuality, tried to summon a joke or a solution to their problem. But when Elena turned her back, Caroline felt the dismissal to her bones, and bowed out without another word; she shut the door with a noticeable click for Elena's peace of mind.

Klaus had been waiting in the hall, and was ready for the full body hug she launched at him when she saw him there. She breathed in by his shoulder, tightening her arms to pull herself up and get her legs around him, too.

Words didn't come. There were too many things she wanted to say. Each one would lead her around and away from all the other things that needed to be shared between them.

"I want to kill him," she breathed.

He rubbed her back, indulging in a deep puff from her pulse point.

"What do you want to do?" he urged her under his breath.

" _Rip_ ," was all she could get out through her teeth, before her fangs forced themselves out beyond her control. Her next words were a hiss. "I _seriously_ just want to use my teeth and bare hands and _rip him apart_!"

"Shall I hold him down for you, sweetheart?" His breath was hot in the shell of her ear.

"Yes," she snapped. "I want him to _piss_ with fear. I want him to _suffer_. Make him _suffer_."

"I'll tell you all the best ways how to destroy the body of a man," Klaus assured her, dragging kind fingers through the ends of her hair. "I'll make sure he stays good and awake to watch you discover what shape your monster takes."

"I want to make him cry," she growled.

"Then he'll cry for you." A gentle, out-of-place kiss was pressed sweetly against the hinge of her jaw, and Caroline reared back, baring her teeth down at him.

"Don't patronize me," she warned.

"Never, love."

Slowly, he let her down to her tippy toes, and then onto flat feet. He kissed her mouth and licked the seam of her trembling lips to get at her fangs - the barest flicker of his tongue against the sharp point of one had her opening her mouth against her better judgement.

"Stop kissing me like that when I'm so angry," she seethed. Glowering, she tightened her arms around his shoulders, squashing her breasts against him. "I want a dead man to _bleed_ , Klaus. What can you do about that?"

"Redirect the urge," he said mildly. "As much as it pains me to admit, Caroline, I'm not a god. I cannot undo the death that has been done. I could reach out to some particularly powerful witches, I suppose, but what powers-that-be would ever allow a resurrection for the explicit purpose of having a bloodbath?"

Intellectually, she knew he was right. It wasn't even that she wanted to raise Damon from the dead just to put him back in the ground - she didn't. But not taking a shot at him when she had the chance was giving her some serious regrets.

"Elena will need to stay a while," she said. "Can she?"

Nodding, he wrapped a possessive hand around her ass and gave it a determined squeeze, arching a brow at her little growl.

"You didn't have to ask," he told her. "Especially since you summoned Elijah down to play his white knight to her frightened damsel."

"She isn't scared," Caroline said hotly.

"The fear will come," Klaus said confidently. The other hand made a home under her shirt, getting his palm on her bare skin. "She's exhausted and in shock. When her body is healed and she's got the time and safety to do so, that girl will shatter like a mirror. She'll need you, and she'll need to feel safe. I don't imagine there's any other house that'll offer her the guidance she needs to mourn and rage and wallow, quite like mine."

Caroline dug her nails into the meaty rise of his shoulder.

"I really," she said darkly. "Really, like it when you be so thoughtful."

"I'm always thoughtful when it comes to you," he said, a little hurt.

"Not just about me," she said through her teeth. Her vampire eyes were on show and there was zero control over them. "For her. Fuck, Klaus, I _really_ like it."

"Doing something for you?" he teased.

It became apparent that he didn't know what exactly was going on with her.

So she took the layers of tulle in one hand, his wrist in the other, and got his fingers dipped into the leaking place between her thighs. Even to her, the heat was immense. When he stroked his way inside her underwear she surged forward to latch onto his mouth and attempted to smother her groan in his smug little grin.

"How long have you been attracted to Elena?"

She balked, squeezing her thighs around his wrist.

"I'm not a lesbian," she said hurriedly.

"Not at all," he agreed. "But that isn't to say you are entirely straight, either."

"I don't like girls?"

"Then don't say it like a question," he suggested. He petted her hair away from her eyes, peering at her in study as his clever fingers teased her lower lips. "You never thought much of it until now?"

"It wasn't an option," she muttered. "She's straight."

"Oh, my sweet love," he whispered naughtily, eyes darkening. "Were we not in the same car, just now? Did you not see the way she needed you?"

"That's - trauma-" she dismissed.

"It's adoration," he remarked. "It's delicious."

"Stop," she all she could get out. She slanted her mouth over his in an effort to get him to shut up, her hand curled around the back of his head. She didn't want to talk about it. Didn't need to. "God, your hands. Klaus, I want you to-"

Her head snapped to the side at Elena's breathy little gasp, the sound of water lapping around a solid surface. That breath had sounded awfully like her name.

Klaus pressed a hot kiss to her shoulder and unhooked his fingers from her insides.

"Go," he murmured.

Caroline blurred.


	15. Rehearsal

** Saturday Evening, 5:48 pm, Mikealson Residence - Lounge **

Caroline walked into the lounge with her eyes seeking the hyrbid. Judging by the glazed look on his face, Elena had been right to go for the kill.

Actually, what she had said was: _'What, he hasn't earned a little teasing, by now? Has he gotten soft? Boo. Stir him up. It'll be fun.'_

_'You sure?' Caroline had worried. 'It's... a pretty modest dress. I don't know, I don't think it'll do it for him.'_

_Elena had just laughed prettily, until her sore body protested the movement._

According to the handwritten tag on the hanger, the dress was Christian Dior, circa nineteen-fifty-six. It hadn't fit her right, but of course, this shipment had been sent with an expert tailor who'd worked through the big brand names for as long as he'd been a vampire.

Mecucio was very quiet, and studious, quick to pin and alter the waist and shoulders to make the silhouette match the ideal. He'd only taken a few minutes, to do everything on the mannequin, then fitted it on her just the once to confirm it was custom to her liking.

The collar was stiff, a blush colored satin pull over the top of her bicep that drew the Original's eye directly to her collar bone, the tiniest peek of cleavage stuffed into the in-built bodice. It nipped her waist and fell in a bell-shape to give her the illusion of a fuller ass (that part had been a suggestion of Mercucio, who admitted he liked the trend.)

The length had originally been below the knee, but the talented seamstress had hiked it up to just above, making sure to add a slit at the back to allow her freedom to move against the unforgiving fabric.

And, the extra material was made into a tie for Klaus to match her, so everyone would know that they belonged to each other.

"Do you like it?"

He wore the dove grey suit and white shirt, as he promised he would earlier. A polished silver buckle on his belt made her very aware of the matching silver gleam of a ring on his forefinger, and the cohesiveness of his matching tie to her dress did _things_ to her brain. Things that would be thought about, on repeat, for many years.

"You're a vision," he murmured, a smile imprinting his dimples. He strolled forward, twisting like a naughty child with his hands behind his back. "Shut your eyes."

The velvet blackness of her lids was permeated by the smell of his cologne, and the fragrant waft of a rose. The very barest brush of it against her lip made her eyes fly open, already beaming at him.

"Turns out romance is undead," Elena quipped.

Caroline was about to ask when he'd managed to get his hands on a white rose, was distracted by the addition to the flower. Hanging from the top most thorn was a silver chain, and on that silver chain was a diamond in a stunning clawfoot design. It matched the pin in the tie he wore for her.

"Oh, Klaus," she said in awe.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, it's so pretty." She touched the edge of the jewel, and looked up at him with a bright smile. "Can you put it on me?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Turning, she pulled her curls to the side to present her nape, not at all surprised when he kissed it. She'd done her own hair in soft curls swept away from her face to better frame the alluring line of the dress, followed by a simple, sweet makeup to adjust the mood of the slightly too-formal gown. A slick coat of strawberry gloss, a warm rosy cheek, a touch of highlighter, a dusting of contour. The soft shimmer on her lids reflected pink under some lights, and her lashes had been given a strong coat of mascara to make the flutter of them extra long.

The necklace sat prettily in the hollow of her throat, and when she touched it she felt like it made her a part of his world, somehow, that he thought she was good enough to wear such a pretty thing.

"It suits you," he said quietly, when she turned around with her fingers rolling the gem on her skin. "Absolutely beautiful."

"And you're more handsome than you have any right to be," she said. Her hand reached out to smooth over his chest, up to his collar. There was nothing wrong with it, but she straightened it anyway. If her thumb drunkenly touched his pulse point to feel the throb of it, that was not her fault.

A hasty swallow bobbed by her thumb, and she shifted her eyes to his face.

"Are you still happy to go?" he wondered. "We can stay here."

"You're both going," Elena repeated firmly, for the eighteenth time. Yes, she had been counting, and reminding Caroline of this since they got her home and situated comfortably on the couch. She was nursing a mug of Klaus' blood and a bowl of popcorn. "You do look really nice, Klaus."

"Be still my heart, a compliment," he teased lightly, shooting a look over his shoulder.

Elena rolled her eyes and popped a handful of kernels into her mouth to avoid retaliating.

Caroline touched his lapel, the soft feel of his shirt, and the tie that made him all hers. Mm.

He was addictive, like that, expensive and delicious. She so loved him in a gorgeous, well fitted suit. All the better to strip him out of it and mess up the perfectly contained exterior, drag out his monster by the scruff of his neck. And that _ass_.

"Stay with me," Klaus told her. "Don't you drift."

"That wasn't a drift," she said lightly. "I feel really coherent. I haven't felt like this in weeks."

"What do you mean?" Elena said from the couch.

Caroline prettied her smile, the aim to convince her that it was just good ol' vampire business - but as nice as it was to have friends who didn't need words to understand horrible truths, it wasn't so good when one wanted to keep secrets.

"Yeah, that cheerleader smile doesn't work on me anymore." Elena motioned at her with the mug. "You can try it, but I already know you're lying."

Caroline laughed. She couldn't not. More honestly, she said:

"It's nothing to worry about. Klaus will fix it. Something weird is going on with my brain and my hunger." She considered explaining further, but at the sound of a door, she perked up over Klaus' shoulder. "Hi Elijah!"

Stepping around the hybrid, she clicked quickly to him, landing a hand solidly against his shoulder as he tried to stride into the house.

"How was the meeting?" She said brightly, loudly, followed by a much less human-friendly: "She doesn't know I called you here from New Orleans. Play along."

"She thinks I've been here?" he demanded softly. "She'll think I haven't had the decency to give the courtesy of a visit."

"Elijah, my guy." She clapped his shoulder. " _So_ not about you. You have to know - her face and hands still look pretty bad. We don't know details. We just know it was Damon, it was bad, and she killed him. Okay, now you can go. Come on."

Even at her insistent pulling on his forearm, she couldn't move the Original. He was halted with an unreadable expression on his face, staring down the hall. He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring for a second, then stared at her.

"Bad?" he repeated.

"Bad."

"And you're still going through with the wedding?" He sneered. "You're going to leave her, when she needs you the most?"

"My _dear_ brother," Klaus said, already wrapping his arms around Caroline from behind, so she didn't get a chance to claw the glare off of Elijah's face. She yowled like a cat, and Klaus hauled her up off her feet and turned before she could get a kick in. "If you care to step inside the lounge without offending our guests? We've been waiting all day to see you."

Elijah didn't spare Caroline a further look as he strode on.

"The _nerve_ -!" she hissed.

"Yes, he sits on a particularly high horse," Klaus mused. "Trust me. I know. If you kick any higher you'll rip your dress."

She stopped kicking, but still struggled. Only for a second, before she heard Elena's breathy rendition of Elijah's name. Her nosiness was too great for something so meager as bloodlust. She looked at Klaus.

"Okay I'm good, let me go!"

He snuck a kiss on her cheek.

"Remarkable creature," he corralled, and set her down.

Her clicking heels were angry and she knew it. At least her face had been trained by many, many years of cheer and pageantry to give the most perfect ice cold bitch-stare on earth.

Elijah didn't even acknowledge her.

"I came as soon as I got Caroline's message," he admitted, sinking onto the cushions near Elena's curled up feet. He wasn't blinking, shoulders tense, as he considered the human gazing at him. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You don't have to do anything," Elena said. A flush crept under her cheeks. "I didn't think Caroline would drag you out of the uh, meeting, you were having."

"It's not important," he amended. "I'm glad she contacted me. Would you have?"

"I don't have your number," she reminded him.

"I'll give it to you," he said. "If you like."

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that," she caught a breath, and wet her lips, casting her eyes at her mug. "I would've just gotten Klaus to say something, anyway. I only... It's only that - it's... you know. Your house. I didn't want to barge in here, because - because - how we - we didn't - like, we didn't separate well. I didn't know if you - didn't want me here."

Caroline was still mad at Elijah, okay. She was fully insulted by him implying she'd rather palm off her damaged best friend to go to a rehearsal dinner than look after her. But the look on his face made her settle.

Yes, she was mad at him because he'd hurt her feelings.

But he hurt her feelings because he was _worried about Elena_.

OH MY GOD. She narrowed her eyes at him. HE'S GOT THE H-O-T-S. HOW HAS ELENA NEVER SEEN THAT?! 'DON'T KNOW WHAT HE WANTS FROM ME' MY ASS!

His hand rested on the top of her foot absent-mindedly over the blankets, wrenching back when Elena flinched.

"That one's sore," she said.

"I don't know what came over me," he said, and stood. He buttoned his jacket. "Forgive me."

"I mean, the other one doesn't hurt -" Her eyes were wide and kind of Disney Princess like. It was ruined, of course, by the black semi-circle under one, and the bolts of red still bright and wicked in the other. "You don't have to go, unless you want - I know you have things to do, and I'm just - sort of, here. In your space. I can go?"

" _No_ ," Caroline said shortly. "You're staying here, with the indestructible vampire and his very comfy couch. We can stay too."

"No. You are going," Elena said. "That's nineteen times I've said it in like six hours, Caroline. I've been counting. Don't make it twenty."

"Well I don't want to," she said bitterly. She folded her arms over her stomach, kicking a leg over the other as she plopped onto the couch. "I've made up my mind."

"You already look like that, it'll just go to waste." Elena tried to smother a yawn behind her hand. "And I'm gonna go to sleep soon anyway."

"Nope," Caroline said, popping the p. She pitched her knees to the side and bent to undo the buckle on her ankle. "I'll just get you in a cuddle puddle and then you won't want me to leave."

"Quit taking off your stuff. You're going."

"Going to get braless in my pajamas," Caroline retorted. The relief of her freed foot was already immense. The other buckle gave and she recrossed her legs with a lusty sigh as her toes twinkled. Tipping her head back, she batted her lashes at Klaus. "You in?"

"Course," he scoffed. He stepped over the back of the couch to settle in next to her, an arm slung behind her head. She wasted no time in flipping her hair over it, grateful he was so solidly on her side. "Braless in your pajamas is one of my top three states I like to find you in."

"Don't start the flirty thing," Elena said, exasperated. "I can only crawl away at like half a foot a minute."

"Have we got ice-cream?" Caroline went on.

"We can have some sent in," Klaus considered. "Though we can get into the wine while we wait. There's a rosé I think you girls might enjoy."

"Klaus, you got all dressed up, you might as well go," Elena said, trying and failing to sway his vote. Yeah, like that was gonna happen.

"It'll take no time at all to shed the monkey suit," he assured her.

"You altered Christian Dior," Elena pointed at Caroline's dress.

"I'll wear it to the next event," she shrugged.

"So the both of you are going to look that good and not use it at all?" the doppelganger demanded. She looked at Elijah. "Tell them they're being stupid."

Hesitantly, and with absolutely no conviction, he looked at the lounging pair.

"You're being stupid." Followed by: "The rosé can wait, there's a Chardonnay from the sixties that they'll enjoy far more. The one Lou Barton sent."

"Oh," Klaus smirked. "I'd forgotten. It pairs so well with strawberries, and we have those, at least."

"I still want ice-cream," Caroline said. She pouted made up lips and batted her lashes. "Also you need to help me out of this dress, because the catches are old and I can't do it myself."

"What am I, your slave?"

"If you play your cards right," shot out of her mouth. At Elena's groan of embarrassment, heat filled her cheeks, but she couldn't help the stretch of her grin. "We can play truth or dare with the wonder-suit and Elena."

"I don't think they'd like the way we play," he teased. He put his hand over her knee. "But if you insist."

"Come on," Elena said, frustrated. "You have to get out. You're going to do the eye-fucking thing and make me actually crawl home. I just want to go to sleep before it starts."

"What starts?" Klaus said, falsely innocent.

"You know what," Elena bit out. "Caroline. You have been waiting to let loose on Bethany for literally most of your life. You have the handsome guy, and the gorgeous body, and the pretty dress. Don't let it slide by. This is a long time coming, and the perfect chance to get your back."

"I don't want to," Caroline chirped. "There's ice cream and booze and pajamas here."

"But Bethany," she tried.

"Bethany also isn't here, which is a plus. And besides, she doesn't cuddle like you can," Caroline reminded her. "We haven't had a sleep over in _ages_. I've made up my mind, and you can't make me even at the top of your game. So bleh."

A curious look passed Elena's bruised face. If Caroline hadn't been a keenly observant vampire, she might've missed how it was the exact replication of Katherine's before she had smothered her to death.

"Pretty sure," Elena warned. "You don't really want to put that to the test, Care."

Caroline scowled at her.

What exactly could Elena do, that would force her to go? Even as a completely healthy human, when they'd had play fights and tried to train her up against fighting vampires, Elena hadn't been able to win. Land a hit, sure. She'd punched Caroline in the head like, at least ten times! But never top her, or drag her around.

But then again, Elena knew Caroline the same way.

"Hey Klaus-" was all Elena said, and Caroline heard: ' _I bet someone hasn't told you about the sex dreams, but someone has definitely told me, and I will share them from least to most embarrassing until you go.'_

"Oh my god, okay, _okay_! Sheesh!" Caroline squarked, getting up. The dress was too tight to bend and get her shoes, so she did an awkward bob and swipe but missed. "We're going, we're going! Under the belt, much, Gilbert?!"

"Drastic times," Elena said sweetly, wiggling smugly back into her pillows. "You had it coming, Forbes." Victory looked awfully like the last few years hadn't happened, making her bright and cheeky in a way she hadn't since her parents died.

Caroline had zoomed over to kiss her unbrusied cheek before she could even think about the implications of a rushing vampire and physical closeness. But Elena didn't even bat an eye.

"Have fun," Elena told her warmly. "I want details tomorrow."

"Okay," Caroline said. She sat near her friend's hip, watching her with a small smile. "You are okay, to be here alone?"

"I'll be with Elijah," Elena said smoothly. "Everything will be okay. I know what I need, and I need to see at least one of us have something good. Please."

"I'll go because you're harassing me," she lamented dramatically. She carefully stroked her hand over Elena's wrist, where the bruising had faded but not gone away. "But if you need me, I'm keeping my phone on. I'll be like, a twenty minute drive away."

A tried sigh came out of Elena's nose, but the warmth in her eyes was not dulled.

"Yes, okay, I will text you if I need you. Even though I'm going to go to sleep in less than an hour."

"We're only going to be a couple of hours anyway," Caroline said. She glanced at Klaus. "Right?"

"A pre-planned emergency with one of my art houses," he concurred. "An attempted break in, but the bandits will plead the case that they work there. I'll be called in immediately to confirm or deny the line up."

"And maybe I'll come sleep with you," Caroline urged, looking at Elena.

"Yeah," Elena was agreeing, before she'd finished speaking. She closed her other hand over Caroline's. "Yeah. Please. You can sleep with me."

Caroline didn't want to go. She needed Elena to know, she didn't want to go. But she also understood that Elena didn't want Caroline's pity - broadcasted on her face no matter how she masked her expression. They'd been friends for too long to hide something so bold.

"Love you," Caroline said.

"Love you too." Elena offered her cheek for a kiss, and Caroline lingered a second, feeling her heart beat lazily under her skin. While she nuzzled her, Elena went on, her husky voice low: "You look amazing. Seriously, Care. So beautiful. She's gonna have a heart attack."

"Here's hoping," Klaus muttered.

"I love you," Caroline said again. Her throat was closing. She put her arm around her friend's shoulders but didn't squeeze even though she wanted to. "So, so much."

"C'mon, your make up will smudge." Elena managed one arm around her, rubbing her bare back with tender swipes of her fingertips. Two nails had broken, and two nails would have to be regrown overnight. "I love you. I'm okay. Please go and have fun."

"I want to be _here_ ," she mumbled grumpily. She shut her eyes, and breathed deep. There was still blood, somewhere. Something bleeding. Maybe inside her, maybe not. Whatever the case, she was still in physical pain, but still warding away company. Well, not _all_ company. "Elijah will have to be a shitty stand-in."

"He's not shitty," Elena's voice was marked by a smile. "It's not gonna take long, and it's important to you in the long haul. I'm not gonna fall apart in the meantime."

"Yeah but I might," Caroline whined.

She scooted closer. Her other arm went around Elena's small waist. She was in a t-shirt of Klaus', and she smelled... delicious. Not in the hungry-for-blood way. The other way a person could be delicious enough to put in her mouth.

Elena's hand, previously occupied with a mug of Klaus' blood, ducked out from between them to rest it on the arm of the couch. Her fingers linked behind Caroline's head, carefully nursed against her artfully arranged curls, and she shifted up onto her knees - Caroline wasted exactly zero time in huddling more solidly against her, tucking her face down by her throat.

"You're the toughest person I've ever met," Elena informed her. Her fingers threaded through the ends of her hair, sending prickles of pleasure up her scalp. "And you're gorgeous, and you deserve a win after the hellish few weeks you've had. You deserve good things, Caroline. You don't need to sit here and miss your shot because I had a bad day."

"The Bad Day," Caroline muttered. "The Worst."

"I'm okay." Elena leaned back, giving her made up cheek a small kiss, and summoned a strained smile when Caroline met her eyes. "What did you tell me to do when you broke up with Tyler?"

"I asked you to leave me alone," Caroline whispered. "But that's different."

"It's not."

"It is. I was angry and scared and it made me reckless. I didn't want to bite you accidentally."

"Scared?" Elena repeated. Her brows drew together. _You never mentioned you were scared_.

A beat passed. Something shifted in the room.

Caroline realized that her precious control was slipping with the wordless open and shut of her lips. She was so close to explaining why she didn't want Elena alone, after suffering what she had suffered.

Because when Tyler had threatened to bite Caroline? When he'd beat her, and held her down to snarl his venomous teeth an inch away from her nose?

He'd made her wish she was dead.

When she'd gotten up and away, she had heard the call to die like a song she couldn't remember all the words to. The plan had been to find a nice quiet spot and take off her daylight ring. It was only Elena's call to an impromptu 'our-boyfriends-suck' sleep over that stopped her from meeting the sunrise. She hadn't told Elena that night what had happened... How the tiny human had saved her life. She hadn't told anyone.

"Klaus," she croaked, and got dizzily to her feet. Elena's hands unlinked but curled into the stiff fabric of her dress, holding her there like a chain that kept a monumental boat in the harbor. "Assist."

"Caroline?" Elena said softly. _Did I miss something? Are you not okay? Why were you scared of Tyler? Do we need to talk about it?_

Caroline pressed a kiss to her hairline, because she couldn't bend enough to get one on her cheek. Her nose hovered an inch above her, bumping against Elena's soft skin as she tipped her head back to see her face.

 _We're like,_ her dumb brain said. _Really close, right now. Like. Fucking... Kiss me, close. If she moves up just a little bit, I'm gonna kiss her. She looks like she wants a kiss._

"This isn't real," she murmured. She shut her eyes and stood up, touching the smear of her gloss on her lips.

"Huh?" Elena said, blinking rapidly. "Hey. Wait. What?"

"We've gotta..." She'd never been more grateful for Klaus' heat, his unmatched ability to make her feel solid in the moment. When his broad hand closed around her waist, she could breathe, and rationalize, and fortify against those dangerous batted lashes. "Go. We're going. Shoes?"

"I have them." He urged her away with the slightest pressure, making the hard lines of her boned bodice dig into her ribs. When her feet didn't move, he bent his head to press a scratchy kiss on her exposed shoulder.

Neither of them missed the throb in Elena's chest when she saw it, sitting back down on her haunches. Her hands released Caroline's dress, and like she thought that no one would see, her smile was sad and lonely.

"Have fun," she urged. "Go on. I'll be okay."

Caroline didn't protest, because protesting looked a lot like burying her face against Klaus' shirt over Elena's warm human skin. Her hands were like, _itchy_ , actually reacting, to the desperate instinct to pull the tiny girl up and rub her nose and mouth all over her soft breasts.

"Bye, Elijah! Look after her! Call me if you need anything!" There wasn't a force on heaven or hell that could make her look at him. He wasn't an idiot, he was the better-dressed version of Klaus, with all his heightened emotions and senses. He would be very aware of the slight stir in her nether regions concerning her friend. Gulping when she walked past him, she heard him say:

"I'll be very careful."

And she believed him.

"Yeah, cool, thanks, bye-"

She zoomed out to the waiting car and flung herself inside, only getting a chance to gasp for air for the barest of seconds, before Klaus was on her.


	16. In The Car

The hybrid's hands were branding with heat as he dragged her legs across the seat by the knee.

"Hey! Dress!" she yelped, but couldn't sit up to push at his hands without bursting the seam of her skirt. 

He took her foot and pressed his mouth to the tender arch of it, moving his lips around to circle her ankle. Pecking dainty little kisses back underneath her toes and the ball of her foot, he peered over her toes.

His tongue was slick and hot, swiping between her toes. She had never liked foot-stuff, but this little display was making her squirm. Embarrassment, confusion, adoration, hunger. Who knew what was making it feel hot?

"I'm not-" She tried to pull her foot away, but he clamped his hand around her shin to keep her leg up. His eyes focused on the scrap of lace that covered her crotch. Very slowly, he lifted the other foot to his lips, and plied it with similar attention. She tried again.

Caroline put her hand between her legs - initially to try and stop him from getting all worked up under his eyes. But what actually happened was she touched herself, and the electric feel of pleasure that resulted made her slump back against the car door.

Were they even driving? She couldn't take her eyes off Klaus long enough to see beyond him.

"Is this real?" she said weakly.

He nodded. One ankle was placed over his shoulder, the other following on the opposite one.

"I feel I should recommend that you don't engage, if you would like to remain certain that what is happening between us is real," he said thickly. "I will put your pretty shoes back on and sit with my hands to myself."

"Please say there's a door number two," she told him flatly. "Fuck, I don't care if this isn't real, I need you."

"It's real," he promised her. "Now. Tell me. You had a spark of attraction today with the lady in the store, didn't you?"

"I was thinking about her blood."

"Perhaps that started it, but you told me yourself it was the thought of her breasts bleeding a trail for your mouth to follow downward that made you lose your mind. Did you see yourself lick her, between her legs? In your fantasy, was she turned on by your tongue?"

"That-!" Her voice cracked. "I-! Like, she _was_ , but Elena- I didn't do that -! She, she just - the blood-!"

"You were not thinking about Elena's blood, when you started to drift tonight," he told her in a very certain, very calm voice. It was not at all accusatory, but it was pointed. "I compelled you not to. You felt something else, for being near to her, and kissing her face, didn't you?"

"No." Her throat trembling, she shifted her hips, making his eyes stop drilling into her soul so he could examine her. If she on purpose squeezed her internal muscles to see him lick his lips, that would remain her little secret. "Klaus, I have been so turned on for so many hours and she's wearing _your shirt_ , and I've had no orgasms and if I wake up with another fucking hallucination without being railed on _again_ , I'm going to cry, and you're gonna get fucking mounted, and I'm gonna rip my dress and then I'll be _pissed_."

A long breath eased out of his teeth.

"Three rounds," he said. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said weakly.

"Take off your panties and give them to me."

He was only passingly through his sentence before she had obliged, straight ripping them off before daring to lift her legs from his shoulders.

"Truth or dare?" she panted, handing him the damp lace.

His eyes swirled with black. A pleased growl rumbled in his chest as he took the panties and brought them to his nose, wuffing deeply. He made full eye contact when he sucked the dampness, thick lips pulling hungrily.

"Dare," he said around his teeth.

She exhaled a thankful breath. Now was not the time to play it safe. She was trembling and wet and so many emotions had flooded her brain for so long, she just wanted to be mindless, and feel good....

And distract him from talking about Elena.

What was it like to exist for normal people? Who didn't have an evil ex, a perfect not-boyfriend, a best friend going through an unknown crisis, and a family who hated the air they dared to breathe? What was it like just to hang out?

"I dare you," she said, already wiggling the skirt up over her hips. "Make me fucking come."

The panties got tossed over his shoulder, like her loosely hanging legs when he bent to bury his face right up against her. No pretenses. No hesitation. No more teasing. His flat tongue slipped through her folds like he'd never tasted anything quite like her, and she may or may not have sobbed his name.

Her hands dug into his hair, hips fucking desperately against his all too knowing tongue. He held her still with two impossibly strong hands, making her cry out in indignation, trying to struggle free.

"No, no, make me come, make me come," she chanted. Roughly pulling his head by the hair only made him turn to nip the inside of her thigh, hard enough that she tried to shut her legs around his ears. " _Ow_! That _hurt_ , you-!"

A suckling mouth made her legs fall open, back arching high as he focused that suction around her clit. While he had it good and pulled into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over it. He let go and laved the hard nerve, looking up with entirely black and gold eyes.

"Truth or dare?"

Caroline couldn't even tell if they were in a moving car, let alone get a sentence out.

He shook his head and rubbed all her juices, and his saliva, all over her sensitive pussy and inside her thighs. The wet slap of each cheek on her legs sounded fucking obscene and she groaned loudly, managing:

"DARE!"

"Dare you," he said, diving in momentarily to snake his tongue up inside her, swirling around on her delicate inner walls. He shoved her legs up to expose her further, bending her legs back toward her head. "Lemme come in your mouth, before we go inside to the dinner. I want to smell it on your breath when you smile at all those fucking boys that'll make eyes at you in this dress."

"Yeah, yeah, _yes_ , yes, I -" Her eyes rolled when a finger dipped inside her, straight in to the knuckle. "Klaus, _Klaus_ -"

"Dare," he picked without having been asked. Dutifully reapplying his tongue, he pressed in another finger to hook it up inside, relentless against the spot that Tyler had struggled to find, and toys only ever achieved.

"I can't squirt- in this dress-!" She grabbed his wrist. "No, no, no you can't, don't, you can't - the dress, Klaus, I can't -"

"You'd better waste that dare on that, then, because I want you to fucking spray all over my face." His tongue reached around the far outside of his chin and lips like a wolf mid-prey, claiming the smear of her mess like it was something ambrosial, and nothing could be wasted. "I want them to fucking _know_ I made you come, make them see how fucking _gone_ I am for you, let them all _know_ -"

It honestly wouldn't have taken much more physically, but him touching his tongue to her full-tilt jealousy and exhibitionist thing did the trick.

Her mouth opened, stomach clenched, half sitting her up. Both hands shot to his wrist, but he was already moving, encouraging the rush out of her with pistoning against _that spot_. It was a gush of wetness, but not a full squirt - she was too reluctant to give it, in the dress.

Mewling, she tilted her hips and set her feet on the roof, grinding up into the deep prod of him. Her ass and thighs were trembling uncontrollably, wobbling as the orgasm coursed like a tidal wave over her whole body. He removed his fingers with a wet slurp of her still squeezing walls, and buried his face back in there, hugging her to him so she couldn't struggle away.

"Klaus," she wept. "God - fuck - _Klaus_ -"

Relief, over stimulation, a too heightened physical state, and a mental image of the man she loved ardently tonguing the absolutely flooded mess of her cunt - she came again, a little more weakly, still jerking her hips to get his reach inside her squeezing body.

"N-nuh- no, s'too- too much - Klaus -" She reached up to push at his forehead with her shaky fingers. He gave one last stroke of his tongue, letting her loosely slide down onto the seat, rubbing lips together like a cat who'd not only gotten the cream, but a whole turkey and a good nap in the sun.

"Love when you come," he rumbled. "When you say my name. I could do it forever."

A shaky little laugh filled the space between them. She still couldn't breathe properly, let alone think. Her functions came back online as he settled over her and kissed her lips only briefly, smelling like her sex.

"Mm, fuck," she murmured, threading her hands in his hair. "Fuck. Fuck _you_. You did that on purpose."

"You dared me to."

"Not that," she purred, opening her eyes. Her fingertips stroked some of the slick on his upper lip - smoothed it through his facial hair, and over his full, red mouth - and then dipped it behind his hybrid teeth. "You smell so fucking good. You smell like _me_."

He sucked her fingers and tilted his head at her, swirling his tongue up between the invading digits. He pulled off with a wet pop.

"Will that be distracting, sweetheart?"

"About as distracting as I'll be to you, when you fill my mouth with your cum, hoping every other person can smell what you just did with me," she said pleasantly. Delighted at the high flush of pink in his face, she beamed. "Are we the most territorial people on earth?"

"Oh, I think we might be up there." He rubbed her thigh with a sticky, hot hand. "You owe me a dare, love."

"I kind of earned a nap," she said. "My brain isn't online. You pressed the reset button."

"We only have one more apiece, and you have to make good on yours," he reminded her with a devilish grin. His eyes flicked to her mouth. "A clever move not to wear lipstick tonight."

"I've learned in several fantasies that lipstick and you don't tend to get along." Stretching languidly, she slithered easily to the wide floor on her knees, reaching for his belt. "I mean, right up until it gets messy. Then it's game on."

He assisted getting his neatly pressed slacks to mid-thigh, creasing the ironed line in the center. It wasn't enough for her. She shoved the crisp shirt up to dig her nails in to his belly, dragging down to leave eight perfectly drawn red lines as she sucked him into her mouth.

He released a breath just shy of a growl, the tiniest flex of his hips letting her know his control was waning. Tightening her lips around his full, hard cockhead, she suckled the tip of him with her tongue flicking into the sensitive hole.

"Tease," he accused roughly. "We've not got time for that kind of play, I'm afraid."

"But if you grab my hair and fuck into my throat like we both want you to," she said, pouting as she took him in hand and stroked him up and down. "You'll ruin my hair and make up, and then we'll have to go home. Oh no."

"Oh no," he echoed. He widened his thighs, shifting into her hand. "We'll have to go home and shower."

"Oh no," she repeated lamely, blowing a cool stream of air onto the wet parts of his foreskin. "We'll have to shower together to save time."

Whatever he'd meant to say was garbled by the time she sank down, gagging against the rough push of him on the back of her throat. She coughed but didn't come up for air, swallowing reflexively when she forced herself to brush the wiry curls of his public bone against her nose.

"Easy," he murmured. "Easy, love-"

She sucked him more readily, bobbing her head with enthusiasm. Every so often, she changed pace, and every other swallow she got him into her throat. Her hand slid up and down his stiff prick to assist when she needed to pull up for air, and she felt almost drunk on how effortlessly she was able to sink into the singular task of getting him to come in her mouth.

The look in his eyes was more than heat of arousal. Softer. Adoring. He stroked her jawline with his knuckle, knowing full well she would not let him wreck her makeup. When she pulled up with a ridiculous wet slurp, he full body twitched, and tilted his head at her as she stroked him in her hand, offering her flat tongue to pat his cock on it.

"Truth," she said. Her voice was hoarse with the self-inflicted abuse of forcing his length into her throat so much, and it made a tasty bit of pleasure sing in her veins.

"I haven't gotten my dare," he pointed out.

"I can't think of one," she said.

"If you skip it, you'll be forfeiting," he decided.

"Just swap with me."

"I'm not swapping. You're forfeiting."

He stroked his fingers over her arm, trailing his touch to her collarbone. He dipped his hand into the dress and struggled against it to capture her nipple in between his fore and middle knuckles, giving a naughty tug that made her squeeze her hand around his shaft.

"Fine," she grumbled, trying to pry his hand loose. "Uh, hands to yourself, thank you. I have a job to do, and you're distracting me."

"I'd be better off ripping that dress straight down the middle and getting your tits in my hands," he drawled. He tightened his pinching grip and made her rear up high onto her knees, following the pull with a breath of pain. "And in my mouth. Make sure that a touch of color can be left marked on you. Maybe it'll last long enough for you to get home, and into bed with Elena."

Caroline glanced up at him with big eyes.

"Are you upset I'm going to cuddle with Elena?" she asked.

He shook his head. His hand left her nipple to give the other one a tender pull, using it like a lead to steer her up off the floor with a low whimper of pain. He got her onto his lap, nursing his cock lengthwise on his stomach to sit her sodden lips against it.

When she was where he wanted her, he let her breast go with a more friendly rub of his thumb, encircling her throat with his hand instead. It was in no way threatening - he didn't close his hand. It was just really fricken erotic, knowing how dangerous he was, and he gentle he could choose to be.

Gathering it did something for him, too, Caroline was surprised that his other hand disappeared under her rub rub his cock through her slick, pumping with intent.

"You're not allowed to sit on it," he told her. "You just trust that I'll come in your mouth."

"Yeah, okay," she said, somewhat sassily. "Because you're somehow going to flip us in the back of this car to get your dick in my mouth without me having to participate."

He grinned, checking all his teeth. The hybrid ones made her fingers reach out to touch the edges, then press into the point to burst the skin. Before she could even see it well, he was sucking, his fist jacking a little faster. When the small cut was healed, Caroline dragged her fingers over his bottom lip and watched it spring back into place.

"I know she's important to you," he murmured.

An anxious thump of her heart made his hand momentarily tighten on her neck. Ah. The placement was two fold. He wanted to interrogate her when she was distracted and unable to lie.

"She's been around forever, and she's never hated me for being who I am," she tried to explain eagerly. "I don't want you to be upset with me about snuggling her. Don't ask me to chose, because she needs me to be there-"

"I'm not cross," he promised her. "I swear. You'd know if I were."

"Then why am I not sucking you off?" she said roughly. "Why do you need to be touching my pulse?"

A lazy smile looked far too good on him, debauched in a pricey suit, smeared with her juices.

"My clever girl," he murmured.

When her pulse banged, she felt it reverberate on his fingers, and shut her eyes. It was embarrassing to be so ultimately known, but also... The precarious play of power there would be over the same second she told him to stop. She didn't want him to stop.

"What do you want to know?" she said, opening her eyes.

He battered his hard length into her clit and made her twitch and shift. A short thrust steered the head against her hole, barely pressing enough to knock into her, but enough to make her try and sit on it.

"Ah, ah, ah, patience," he instructed. "I want to know if you realize your affections for Elena ran particularly deep."

"They do," she said matter-of-factly. "But not like - in a sexy way. She was wearing your shirt, Klaus. She smelt good, because she smelt like you."

There was a pleased rumble in him. His hand jerked a little faster.

"You've never thought of her naked?"

"No."

"You've never thought about her face between your legs?"

"No."

"You've never thought about her breasts?"

"No." The word was just as easily given as the rest, but he cocked a brow at the extra throb in her pulse. Caroline struggled to remember when she had actually thought about Elena's boobs. "Oh, like, I have, for bras and stuff. We used to share a cup size. And a couple years ago she found a lump and made me feel mine and hers to see if it was normal. It was, FYI."

"You have felt each other like that?" he murmured. "Wearing what, exactly?"

"Don't be gross, we were freaking out. But if you really have to know I was wearing a sun yellow dress with the straps pushed down and both boobs out. She pulled up her top and the bralette up under her chin."

"What color was her bralette?"

"Pink," she said easily. "Pale pink."

"Did it match the flush of her nipples?"

Her hand smacked at his arm to knock it away from her throat.

"Don't," she warned him. "It wasn't like that."

"Who wears a bralette to be knowingly examined?" Klaus goaded. The hand settled on her ass and gave a tight squeeze. "I think she's attracted to you, too."

"Klaus," she said shortly.

"Caroline," he replied, and dragged her by the ass to rub himself through her lips, making awfully wet noises in the car. She couldn't escape her wetness, couldn't escape his probing questions. "Have you ever dreamt of her?"

"No." A frown touched her mouth.

"Have you thought about being on top of her?" he continued.

"No."

"Lie." He tapped his cock against her hole. "You twitch here, too you know."

_Oh boy._

"You think about being on top of her, about her lovely breasts," he confirmed. "Do you think of kissing her?"

"No."

The wet slap of his hardness felt like someone had poked her with a curling wand. She shot forward, bracing her arms on the seat behind his head.

"Lie," he acknowledged. "Do you think about what noises she'd make when you settled over her?"

"No."

"Lie." He squeezed his hand possessively into her flesh, fingers getting real close to the extremely sensitive inside part of her ass. "Do you think to suck her tits into your mouth?"

"No."

"Lie. Do you get your body between her legs, love?"

"No."

"Lie. Do you think about where she'd put her hands?"

"No."

His brow twitched. It hadn't been a lie.

"You know where her hands are," he realized. He licked his lips. "Tell me."

"I'm not telling you anything," she said primly. "You can call this little thing between us a lie-detector, but I'm also still turned on, and you can't prove anything."

"I dare you to tell me," he pressed. "The fantasies you've had about sweet, lovely Elena."

"I don't have any fantasies about Elena," she said blandly. "Also, it's my turn to dare you, and I dare you to shut up and come in my mouth already."

"Don't be sour," he murmured. "You're in safe hands. I wouldn't shame you for it."

"I've got nothing to be ashamed about," she griped. "And I dared you to do something, and now you're not doing it. Are you forfeiting?"

He sighed, fully put on, seeming altogether disappointed.

"Well, if I must," he said.

In a blur, she was on her knees, head cradled in his hands. He didn't fuck her mouth roughly, or even enough to edge to the back of her throat. He moved quickly and surely, keeping her still while he moved his hips.

"I can see you two in my mind's eye," he said softly. "I can see you on top of her, both of you glowing by a fire's warm light. I can see your mouth latched to her tit like you're starving for her to nourish you. She moans when you bite into it. She wants you to be filled with her elixir blood so badly, sweetheart."

Caroline didn't want to listen. She'd dared him to shut up. But a traitorous curl of heat was simmering in her, and there was no way he wasn't aware of it in their proximity - especially since her cunt was bare to the air of the car, no barrier to contain her scent.

"I can see her rubbing a wet shine onto your belly with her legs open as wide as she can. So eager for your friction. You give her a lovely thigh to ease some of her tension, and she humps at you like a dog." At her whimper, he hissed. "Do you release her from between your hungry teeth to tend her with your tongue? Or do you reach down to pleasure her with your fingers, so that you can keep swallowing her blood while you make her come?"

Caroline hadn't thought about it like that, exactly. The idea didn't miss. She whimpered again and delved a hand between her legs, shutting her eyes when she rubbed her clit.

"That's it," he said. "That's my girl. Play, sweetheart, come again. Come thinking of her gorgeous tanned skin spread out before you like a buffet. Her hard little nipples, and her desperate hands on your body. Do you like the thought of her bleeding freely to your tongue, hm? Making her cry out when you sink fingers into the heat of her? Do you think she will shiver, or tremble, when she comes for you? Do you think she'll gasp your name? It's something so magical, to be the one who pleasures a woman so well you're the only thing on her mind. Will you come thinking about how she'll moan for you?"

Caroline was, as a matter of fact, but she wouldn't ever tell him that. She pulsed, groaning, a hand clutching his thigh with her nails, just as he grunted and shot his own load at the back of her mouth.

She swallowed reflexively, gulping the hot strings of his pleasure, her chest heaving as she breathed through her nose. Her lips felt the throb of his emptying cock, still moving up and down to drain the last of the mess out of him.

When he had nothing left to give, she sat back on her heels, showing him the last of the spill on her tongue before swallowing it loudly and licking her lips. When he'd blinked the gold and black haze from his eyes, Caroline crawled back up onto the seat and flipped down the visor, checking her reflection.

The makeup was pretty good - she needed to reapply her gloss, of course - but her hair was clearly just-fucked and so she set to smoothing it out. She got out her applicator, meaning to fix her lips first, and yanked her hand away when Klaus touched her.

"Just before you fix it," he said warmly. "Kiss me."

She shrugged her shoulder jerkily and applied the gloss. Dumping it in the bag, she reached for her shoes and stuffed her foot into the straps, mindlessly doing the buckle against the strain in the corseted bust.

When the shoes were on, she snatched a handful of tissues and wiped the worst of the mess from her thighs and slit, dumping them in an empty wine bucket. She smoothed her skirt down, and focused up on the mirror, finger combing her hair into something more intentional.

Klaus watched her the entire time.

"I've upset you."

No _shit_.

She didn't answer. Her curls settled after a few artful pulls, and when she was done, she flipped up the mirror and glanced at the clock.

"We're late," she said flatly, and stared out the window.

A long minute of silence stretched impossibly on and on. When her eyes next found the clock, it literally had only been a minute.

"Is it because I went on about Elena?"

If he was going to be stupid, she wasn't going to talk to him. Obviously, it was about Elena.

"Truth or dare?" he prompted.

"You forfeit your turn," she snapped. "You didn't shut up. You lost."

Part of her wanted to just let it go. The familiar knot anxiety of approaching her family was beginning to tighten in her chest, and she started to tap her foot against the door.

Klaus moved - she didn't see how, or what he meant to do - but she shut her arms around herself and leaned away to put her whole shoulder against the door. Even though she knew it was probably not toward her, she wanted to make it perfectly clear she didn't want to be touched.

"Right," he said bluntly. "Loud and clear, love."

_Good._


	17. Talk About It Now

**Saturday Night, 6:21pm: The Luxe Du Mont, est 1921 - Rehearsal Dinner**

"We're here for the rehearsal dinner," she told the maître d'. Her inflection was flat and she hadn't uncrossed her arms from her stomach.

"The Bethany party?" he confirmed.

She nodded sharply.

"Right this way, miss. The bride just arrived."

Every bone in her body felt like it had been squeezed through a small, icy straw. She seized on the spot, unable to move, as the maître d' started to lead them away. Seeing as how she was not talking to Klaus, she couldn't explain the new hesitation: arriving after Bethany would mean that she was showing her up.

Another item on the plentiful list of reasons her cousin was going to socially murder her.

It felt like she was going through it alone. She saw Klaus stalking after the man and then glance back to see why she wasn't following - whatever bad mood he was in immediately drained away at her wobbling lip.

"I'm not a -" she managed to get out at a reasonable volume, followed by a whisper of the heinous word: " _Lesbian_."

"No," he said softly. "You're not."

Her hiccuping chest felt hot when she put her hand over it. She rubbed to try and soothe some of the internal distress, but it only got worse when Klaus stepped closer to her and she flinched.

"I'm not," she told the mirrored wall. A hasty press of her fingers under her eyes made her control the drop of her tears. She looked at the roof, sniffing hard, trying to swallow back the wad of nausea in her throat.

"Caroline, there are many more sexualities than straight," he said gently. "I don't consider myself gay, but you can bet over the years I've dallied with beautiful men. An attraction to a gorgeous person of whom you love is not a sin."

"I'm not," she said again, sounding childish and weary. "I don't."

Aware he was very carefully considering her fragility, she gave him the time to think of the right thing to say. Unfortunately, the idiot told her the truth.

"You do love her, and you do want her under you."

Turning sharply, she glared at him with her teeth set hard in her mouth and hands falling stiffly to her sides, already in fists she could swing at him. Her bottom lip was still wobbling and tears were still gathering, so she felt much like a tantrum throwing toddler. It didn't help her already delicately balanced bad mood.

"I don't," she said tightly. "I'm not."

He sighed, and glanced over his shoulder, where the maître d' was waiting, but inspecting one of the potted plants, clearly wishing he was anywhere else but in the middle of some romantic squabble. When Klaus looked back at her, he was only exasperated, which made her feel about two inches tall.

He wasn't taking her seriously, and it was devastating.

"We can discuss this later," he told her. "In the car, on the way home. But let's get in there so we can get it done. I'll have the phone go off in an hour, love. We'll be back home before eight o'clock."

The urge to say something hateful and mean to wound him was pretty strong, but she needed his offered elbow - the support to face her family. There was literally no one else in the whole wide world she felt she could stare them down with.

"I don't want to talk about it," she ground out. "If you ever bring it up again I will seriously not talk to you."

"You already weren't talking to me."

Her feet skidded in her haste to dig them in, and she felt the hot bleed of her monstrous eyes fill her vision. She had his jaw in between her fingers and thumb before she could consider how dangerous it was, forcing his head around sharply to look at her.

"Be very careful now love," he warned her softly. His eyes flicked to the hand holding him hostage. "Very, very careful. I can count the amount of people to handle me like this on one hand. I can count the amount of them who have survived on one finger."

"If you push me," she told him darkly. "I'll push you back."

"Only one of us will walk away from such an altercation, Caroline."

"I know." Pointedly, she dug her claws into his cheek a little harder. "Push me on this. I dare you. I would literally rather you lost your temper and killed me than talk about it any more."

He clenched his teeth. Slowly, he reached up and put a hand around her wrist, thumb meaningfully digging into her pulse. He drew her grip loose, putting her arm down by her side by guided force.

For a long moment, they stood very still, glaring at each other, nearly nose to nose.

"Caroline!" Caroline's Granny crowed.

Clicking heels made Caroline blink away the threads of her insidious vampire, and she gave the surprisingly tall old woman a small smile. She was dressed in a neat silver dress with matching blazer, a brooch of a peacock pinned on her lapel. It flashed in the low lighting as she strode to them both, her up and down of Klaus completely unsubtle.

"Hi Granny," Caroline said. "Have you met my boyfriend Klaus?"

"You're late," she scolded.

Ordinarily, Caroline might've blamed her Gran's rudeness on being hard of hearing, but there was unfortunately nothing wrong with Gran's hearing. She was just rude.

"This is Klaus," she tried again. "My boyfriend. Klaus, this is my Granny May-"

"You can't afford that dress," Gran said tightly, grabbing the fabric and giving it a sound tug. "Who did you borrow this from?"

"I bought it," Klaus informed her. "For Caroline. She's a vision, is she not?"

"Ugh, Brits," Gran grumbled. She took Caroline's hand and towed her along at a pace that made her tight skirt protest. "I thought there was a perfectly good American boy you were with when I saw you last?"

"Klaus has been around for like two years, Gran," Caroline explained quickly, trying to delicately slow the pace to avoid having a big fuss made over her enterance. "Could you just slow down a little?"

"God no. You're already late." They burst into the small reception hall, expensively decorated in sheer white curtains and many candles. "She's here!"

The whole room went quiet to stop and stare, because of course it did. Three long tables of assorted family stopped mid conversation and all turned to look.

Caroline felt Klaus' hand on her back and turned to look at him with a tired exhale, already done with the entire night.

"I want to go home," she muttered.

"Nonsense, you just got here," Gran snapped, towing her toward what appeared to be the main table. She stabbed her finger in the direction of an empty seat across the table and barked: "You sit there."

But Caroline was yanked rather roughly down on the opposite side, and was a little bewildered that Gran immediately took the seat next to her - Klaus sat opposite, looking unfairly put together. His temper was written in the tense line of his shoulders and the look he flashed Caroline from under his lashes.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't mind me, love," he replied quietly.

Bethany sniffed something that was assuredly at her expense, but Caroline was too busy studying Klaus' expression to hear it. She watched his hands link under his chin, and they were all served the main course without prompt.

"You've landed quite the man," Granny said with a sharp nod of approval.

"He's perfect," Caroline replied, looking directly into his eyes.

"Oh? What makes him so? Is he like your grandfather?"

"He's nothing like Pop was," Caroline said easily. "He's an artist. He listens. And he lets me get away with murder."

Klaus' mouth curled.

"Very flattering," he said, for her ears only.

"None of that matters," Gran said brashly.

"It matters to me." Keeping Klaus' eyes, she found herself softening. "He's too good to me. I know I can be a pain-"

"You can." Gran stabbed her potato and waved it in his direction. "But you need someone a little more like that last one - the American one. Like your Pop-pop. The stories your mother told you about his belt are blown out of proportion."

"He did hit Mom, and he did hit me, Gran, because I remember it," Caroline corrected her, ducking her eyes to her plate. She didn't want Klaus to listen to that. "And I don't want any one else. Klaus is amazing."

"Is he virile?"

" _Granny_." She shot her a sideways look.

"What?" The old woman screwed up her nose, motioning with her fork toward Klaus across the table. Even if he didn't have the ability to hear, he would've been very aware that he was being spoken of. "I know our women give good babies, so it might be him that's the problem. Any particular reason you aren't knocked up yet? Is he insisting on protection? Because you know you can take sugar pills in front of him that look just the same as the other kind. Or is it his dinky, that's broken? I suppose if he's rich enough to buy god he can get his business sorted and put a baby in you. It'd do you well to start haranguing him into it. You aren't getting any younger."

 _I'm also not getting any older_ , she thought wearily. She sucked back the wine that had been put in front of her.

"Don't drink like that," her Granny ordered, clipping her words. "You're being unladylike."

"Uh huh," she said, defeated, and indicated for another glass from one of the waiters. "Big day."

"It's not _your_ big day. You can't imagine what poor Bethany has gone through just to get to the chair up there. You don't know the meaning of the word struggle, not really," she was told frankly. "Now. What options does the boy have for you, long term?"

"He has a name." 

"He probably does. I'm not going to bother remembering it. What are your options?"

"What do you mean, my options?"

"Options. Long term." Her cloudy eyes stared into the depths of Caroline's soul. "He's got no problem with marrying you, does he?"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't plan to get married," Caroline said too honestly. She ducked her eyes to the table under the old woman's awful glare. "Well, maybe, I don't know-"

"It's not about him marrying you that's the option, it's what you can weasel out of him while he's with you. Obviously marrying the bastard will get you a legal tie to his fortune, so trap him without a prenup. Then you can move on to greener pastures. If he's got rich friends, make do with one of them. If he hasn't, make sure he pumps at least one child into you before you act up and leave."

"I'm not going to trap him, Gran," Caroline told her plate, her ears turning red. "And I don't want to leave him. He's-"

"He's nice," Gretel said, on her other side, with a sly purr. "Has he got any brothers?"

"Uh, yeah, actually," Caroline acknowledged. She was surprised and grateful for the butt-in, thinking that maybe someone was taking pity on the harassing her grandmother was doing.

"Single?" Gretel prompted.

Granny smacked a fist on the table which made a surprisingly loud bang, clattering several pieces of cutlery and the wine glasses.

"Good thinking!" she approved, and grabbed Caroline's arm, quite hard in her frail old hand. "Has he got brothers you can move onto?"

"No, no, no," Caroline said quickly. "They aren't - single."

"That doesn't really matter," came the too-casual drawl from her other side. Gretel sipped her wine, looking over the rim of it at Klaus' stock still form across from her. "Do they look like him?"

"Klaus' brothers won't like you, Gretel."

"Are they gay?"

Caroline wasn't really sure she should speak to that, given that her once very straight perception of sex and fun had already taken a twisty turn. When squaring off at forever, she didn't imagine the Originals would shy from a good time, regardless of who it was with. Even Elijah didn't seem too uptight to - what was the word Klaus used? _Dally_? - with another man.

The thought made her back break into a new sweat. Elijah rumpled and creased, holding the hips of another man as he plowed into him, was an image that made her rather rudely snatch the offered wine from the waiter.

"Bourbon?" she said meekly. "Please?"

"Since when do you drink liquor?" Granny snapped. "She'll have a sparkling water and no more, or I'll have your job."

"Are the brothers gay, or are they just married?" Gretel pressed. "Do they have children with these partners? How old are they?"

She was sort of already over the conversation, and thought that maybe, their sexual orientation would end it. She finished her wine.

"Yes. Very gay."

"Hm. Difficult." Gretel took a sip from her glass. Not for vampiric ears, she said: "Not impossible."

Ew.

"It's disgusting, these queers coming out of the woodwork," Granny said loudly. It made ears prick in their direction, triggering instincts to engage in a time old rallying against gays. "If I ever thought any of my boys had been a filthy fairy, I would've beaten it out of him."

"Charming," Klaus said flatly. Aside from the two on either side, no one heard him, because they were too busy agreeing with the old woman's words.

"The lot of them turn my entire stomach," Granny went on. "It's unnatural. Unlawful. Filthy, too! Even the women. No women were faggots in my day."

"Lesbians, Gran," corrected Jace from two seats on Klaus' right. "The lesbians ain't too bad, at least I can get something out of that."

"Dirty. Just plain sickening." She put another hard fist down on the table to keep waning attention. "And to think! They could be anywhere! Touching food or your clothes, covered in their own filth. It's a disease that a sensible person would stone out of the youth. When we used to string 'em up, they weren't as prevalent. Now it's beyond a joke."

"Danny Procter turned out faggoting," Dean said loudly, making sure the sound reached Granny's bad ear. "You know what I did, Gran?"

"Tell me you set him straight."

"I set him straight, alright," he gloated. "Straight to fuckin' hospital!"

There was a whoop, and two of her uncles clapped. Granny admonished the language, not the behavior.

Maggie piped up:

"I spit on one at a parade, one of them lesbians." Leaning forward in her seat, she gave Granny a big, bold smile. "I thought she liked it, so I took off my shoe and hit her with that until the cops came."

"You shouldn't beat them," Aunt Linda said, sounding sage, and far too casual. "You don't know what they like. It's all rather perverse. I think they make themselves public if they like to be humiliated. You know - sexually."

Caroline happened to hear a puff of exasperation from Leon, and felt herself solidify that he, at least, was not currently a monster. But what would she know? She had been made one, so why wouldn't he?

"It's not the lesbians that's the problem, really, all of that's just an example of how all women love to have things in them," Mark said above the chatter. "Even when they say they don't like it, in between them they get off on fingers."

"Yes, and a notable absence of a penis," Klaus drawled.

Mark ignored him, turning to Stacey, who was wagging her finger at him from across the table.

"Lesbians are worse than the gays," she said sternly. "Don't ever forget that."

"What? No way!"

"Mm-hm. Think about it. You know a gay because he shows off when he sees something he likes, so in a locker room you know who's into what. But girls? _Sneaky_. We can't ever tell when they're around us. We get fitted bras by women, go to the sauna with women-"

"She's right," Granny said. "We never know them. At least the fairies you can tell."

"So what, you get looked at by a woman," Dean scoffed. "At least they ain't strong enough to hurt you. Some of them gays get big enough so they can go hunting for us. They see it like a game."

"Tell ya what," Jace announced. "Any faggot comes hunting for me, he's gonna get a bullet between his eyes, no questions asked."

The conversation went on, of course, but Caroline didn't hear it. She had caught Klaus' eye as she sunk into her chair, and he was looking at her singularly, head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

It had clicked, for him, why she might be supremely uncomfortable to have any non-linear attraction to Elena dragged out of her. Despite wanting to agree, and definitely knowing there was at least a spark of attraction, having so made a big deal was not something she was able to process in the wake of having to square up at her family.

Once the main course was done, they got up to wonder around and select their own desserts. Klaus made his way to her and opened his arms - she got on her toes to wrap around his shoulders.

"Sorry," she said, as he said it too. She breathed in by his ear, then went down on her heels, smoothing her hands over his lapels. She had to swallow against a hard lump in her throat before she started speaking. "There's too many things, Klaus, to be thinking about all of that-"

"I only wanted to make sure you knew it was alright," he muttered. He kissed her knuckles. "That you knew that I admire all parts of you."

"It's not..." The tip of her finger touched one of the spots on his neck, trailing upward to fit against the line of his throat. "It's just - I don't... Know... Really..."

"It's alright."

"I don't want things to change between us-" she blurted. Her fingers curled around his jacket, and she gaze up at him without blinking. "We've been - we've been so good, and I don't want anything to jeopardize what - what we-... what's _happening_ , here."

He stepped closer to her, holding her hands in his. He gave each set of fingers a squeeze.

"Nothing but you and I will get in the way of you and I," he promised her throatily.

"But you're jealous," she muttered.

"I'm possessive, yes. I covet the fascination you have with Elena. But I am grateful for the many moments you and I have been having, all of our own." His hand cupped her face to lift it - Caroline hadn't been aware she wasn't looking at him. He was soft for her, warm and calm, waiting for eye contact. "I'm not jealous of you two, love. I don't mind you going to her, especially tonight. The thought of you two together is not something I find abhorrent."

"Are you sure?" she whispered. Studying his face for a hint of a lie, and found none. He even shrugged, totally at ease. "You couldn't even bring me here without scent marking the inside of my mouth, but you want me to believe you're okay with snuggling someone else?"

"She's in my house, wearing my shirt," he murmured. There was a heat in him, simmering away. "That you even smelt me on her is doing something to my hindbrain. I-... Am, a little ashamed, to mention that I like the thought of you experiencing another woman, but thinking of me. Not to say you will tonight, or with her at all. But just to say the idea is rather... Inspiring."

Her mouth felt so dry.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Klaus, I don't know. I can't - there's too many things - and with her, after this morning, and I don't know how far he went- she says he didn't - do that - but he tried and I can't just..."

"Of course, love." He pecked her cheek. "I know. I'm not pushing, merely explaining. There isn't a jealousy, I promise. Elena serves a different purpose than I do. There will be things that she does that I will never be able to achieve - we are too differently wired, she and I. Physically or by manner. It's in these differences I find myself settled."

"You got-" Pausing, she let her nosy cousins walk past, the three of them giving a stern side-eye to her gorgeous dress. Once they were at the table, discussing her, she continued without listening to them: "You came so fast, when you were talking about us being together."

"You seem to behave different sexually for her, than you do with me," he murmured. "More dominant. It's fucking _delectable_."

Shivering, she pulled him close, under the pretense of swaying to the music in the background.

"The difference is, I can be in control with her," she said against his cheek. "She's flexible. You won't bend."

"I dare you to keep trying," he goaded softly, hands pressing into her a little on her back. "If you wanted to dip your toes into something with more bite, you know I'd oblige you."

"You don't take orders well," she reminded him thickly.

"Pot." He kissed her jaw. "Kettle."

Giggling, she put her arms loosely over his shoulders and spied the many eyes that darted away from them being so familiar to each other in such a public venue. She heard one of her cousins say:

_"How can anyone be that good at acting in love?"_

It was echoed across the room by:

_"I think there's too much chemistry there for him to be a fake, you know."_

Satisfied, Caroline's eyes shut as her hand closed around his, feeling his prickly cheek graze her throat as he stepped into a very sloppy version of a waltz with her. His kiss against her exposed collarbone was brief, but kicked off a spark of pleasure in her that made her sigh and cup her hand over the back of his neck, rubbing her thumb in a small circle around his nape.

"You're gonna get me all worked up again," she falsely lamented.

"Good. Then we can defile the coat closet and leave early." He snickered where she laughed, lifting his head to gaze at her from beyond lowered lids. His hand urged her a little closer, until their bodies were more aligned from hip to chest, and swayed her a little more determinedly. "I hate these people and you deserve better."

"I can hardly hear them anymore," she mentioned. Her fingers combed through the curls at the back of his head. "All I can think about is you, and Elena, and weirdly - Elijah. Is he as good as Elena thinks he is?"

"He's the best of us, probably, and a die hard romantic," Klaus agreed. They did a quick little spin more reminiscent of a tango than a waltz, changing Caroline's scenery from the large windows opening out to a beautifully kept garden to the glittering candlelight carefully placed along the dining tables. "Can you see what it's doing to them, that you're out from under their thumb?"

There were few people sat at those tables. Most were hastily pulling out phones and looking bored, but Uncle Murphy was hoeing into a third portion of dinner, despite his wife hissing in his ear about his straining shirt buttons.

Half the Bride Squad, and the bride herself, were sitting at the end of the table in silence. After Caroline shuttered her eyes and made out like she was mindlessly twirling Klaus' hair around her fingers, all of them looked at her.

"I can't find anything that says he's bankrupt, Bethany," groused Amilla.

"Keep looking," was the entitled demand.

"I have one article about a painting that was stolen?" piped up Maggie. "Oh wait, it was fully reimbursed. For-..."

"For what?" asked one of the girls curiously.

"For seventy thousand," Maggie said under her breath.

Bethany put her phone down with a snap.

"One painting?" she snapped. "Who sells a painting for seventy thousand dollars? This is stupid. Art is ridiculous. Let me see what the picture looked like!"

"I wish my boyfriend would dance with me like that," confessed one of the other bridesmaids, just shy of a whisper. "God, he looks at her like she hung the moon."

"It's disgusting," Bethany said tightly. Whether she meant the painting or the looking, Caroline would never know.

Her eyes met his and she smiled, unable to dampen it.

"Smug is a good look on you," she told him. "You like it when people think you're the suave art guy, huh?"

Pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek, he said:

"Perhaps I just like the way you glow for me."

"You're pretty much the only thing that's good in my life right now," she told him without thinking. It was unfortunately very true. "God. You just make everything so easy. I just want to go home and get in your bed."

There was no thinking about when 'home' became 'the Mikealson Estate'. Even when she thought about it later, she couldn't renege the sentiment, but it also didn't sit quite right with her, either.

"As much as I concur," he said quietly. "You have commitments to meet tonight that aren't in bed with me. You have a friend in need of you, and it would eat you up inside to leave her."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked timidly.

"Not an inch," he said, perfectly content.

"Is it kinda wrong that you're not jealous of the ladies I'm attracted to?"

"It would be if it were correct. I was plenty jealous this morning with the lady in the store. I had plans for you to pay recompense, don't you worry." His hand was burning through her dress, and all he had done was tighten his palm on her-mid back. "If I look closely at it, it might be because I know Elena would die to protect you, and I think that it's at least passingly worthy of your attention, if you should wish to give it. Everyone else is undeserving."

Caroline kissed him. She didn't know what else to do. She had been so mad at him earlier, of him making her see what he was fantasizing. All she had wanted to do was go home and ignore him. But talking about it out loud... this awful thing... She had been half obsessed with Elena for like, six years. It was not a thing she ever felt secure enough to dissect internally, let alone with someone.

So she kissed him, and poured her feelings into it, a soft noise of passion leaking from her throat.

"If you could not," Bethany said loudly. "People are trying to eat."

"I hope they aren't trying to eat the canapés, because they're awful," Klaus said against Caroline's mouth. He pecked her lips, smothering her wistful sigh.

"They're French!" Bethany snapped.

Klaus proceeded to speak French fluently, which Caroline could only admire and not participate in. He appeared to ask the bride several questions, and by the end of it simply said: "Comprenez-vous cela? Non? Eh bien. Au revoir."

Bethany was bright red, holding her breath. Her dress was skin tight, white enough to make a person squint to look at it. The fabric was some kind of stretchy faux leather? It made her waist look incredible, but even the obvious spanx underneath did nothing for the pouch of her lower belly.

"That's a nice dress," Caroline said sweetly. "It looks like the interior of a car."

"Smells like one too," Klaus drawled.

"It's -!" Bethany hissed, then changed tack. "You look like a fucking candy wrapper!"

"Christian Dior, nineteen-fifty-six, doesn't agree," Caroline replied, and gazed up at Klaus. "I love all the string you can pull."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he promised her, a cheeky smile impressing his dimples.

"You're like, so powerful." She had been meaning to send it overboard, but there was a shudder in his pecs under her hands, and his lids lowered over the slight twist of black in his eyes. Caroline, feeling emboldened, went on. "And so gorgeous."

"He's not that-" Bethany started, but Caroline kept talking, and couldn't hear her.

"You're so good to me," she purred. His brow ticked. "So tactically brilliant and strong, for me."

"Caroline," he warned under his breath. "Stop poking the wolf, now."

"But you are." She twirled a curl around her finger. The favorite one of hers, behind his ear, which always decided to spring forward into a semi-circle. "You're perfect, all for me."

Bethany was whinging about -... Something. Rudeness? Who fucking knew. Probably. But Caroline literally didn't care. All she knew was Klaus, and the pink under his skin, and the steel band of his arms around her. He was breathing slowly, holding on each inhale and exhale, doing his level best to keep his calm.

"I can still taste you on my tongue," she whispered. "Can you still taste me?"

He nodded once, sharply.

"You need to stop," he said. The flicker of gold in his eyes, and the slight swell of black veins, made her inclined to agree. But she wasn't exactly sure what she was stopping, when everything she said was her truth.

"Oh my god, it's not _what_ I'm saying," she murmured. "It's because it's the _truth_. Isn't it?"

"We can leave it at that," he assured her tightly.

"Like, we can for now, but if you don't think I'm not going to wax poetic about all the perfect parts of you I adore when we're alone, boy..." She kissed his cheek. "I don't think you've been paying attention to how badly I want you to lose control."

"Caroline." The strain was real. He was stony, putting his hands on her arms to carefully but determinedly put her at arm's length. "Enough, now."

"I want the wolf," she told him.

"You're gonna get it in a minute," he snapped. It wasn't angry. The barest hint of sharp teeth peeked out from beyond his moving lips, and she swelled with pride.

"Is it because she was watching?" she goaded. "I staked some kind of wolfy claim that got you going, and I wasn't lying about it. That's what it is, isn't it? What it takes to drag the wolf out of you? And you have the balls to tease me about my exhibitionist kink."

Fantastic lips pulled into a frown, and the bulge under his lip took a few seconds to dissipate.

"We can talk later." He was so _stern_. She snickered. "It's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny."

"It isn't," he said flatly.

"Awh, come on," she cooed. When she tried to sidle closer, he staunchly refused to let her, keeping her away from him with strain in the set of his mouth. "Klaus, come on, let me give you a hug."

"I will allow the hug if you promise not to talk for a minute."

"But you love my mouth, and you love it more when it's moving."

The frown deepened.

"I backed off with hounding you about Elena," he reminded her. "Because even though I knew you enjoyed it, you were uncomfortable. Show me the same courtsey."

Blinking, her lips popped open.

"You're serious?"

"As death." His jaw was flexed with the clamp of his teeth.

"I didn't know-..." She trailed off. "Sorry, Klaus. I'm sorry. I didn't know I could embarrass you."

"Yeah, well, we can discuss _later_." Apparently seeing she wasn't going to come after him for the kill, he relaxed his hands and bent his arms to steer her in, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. She swayed with him for a minute, feeling the air settle around them, deaf to the words surrounding her name from the mouths of gossips.

"You are okay with me and Elena, right?" she asked softly. "I don't mean to push it. I'm sorry I brought it up. I just need to know if you're alright with the -... Not the attraction, bit. The other bit. The bit where I need to be with her."

"I expect when we get home, you'll go to her and snuggle. Heal your wounded heart, for being with her in a safe capacity. It did damage to you too, to see her as she was." He rubbed her back, his cheek on her head. "Even I couldn't look at her, when she was in her state. I have hated that face for five hundred years, and to see her so broken was not something I ever thought would turn my stomach."

Tightening her arms around him, Caroline set her chin on his chest, looking up with a small smile on her lips. He pressed the gentlest of kisses on her, eyes heavy with emotion she couldn't understand.

"If you ever get around to killing Katherine, you'll make it quick," she noted. "You had feelings for her too, Klaus."

"A lot more angry ones than kind," he said, arching his brow. "But even I know that Elena isn't Katherine. They're chalk and the devil."

She giggled.

"Pretty sure that's not how the saying goes."

"Try and imagine likening Katherine to anything so simple and innocent as cheese," he teased, and wrapped his arms around her to lower her into a romantic dip. He pressed their heads together, still smiling. "Although by comparison Elena might need something a little more angelic than chalk, if we're being pedantic."

"I'm always pedantic," she said, mock-primly. "She's always been like that, you know. Angel-like. Life and death situations just make it more extreme."

"I saw it myself when she survived the world's most notorious hybrid with the grace and poise of a saint," he told her. "So I imagine a confession of attraction won't scare her an inch, regardless of who it may come from."

"Her healing is more important than me wandering down the path of potential gayness, Klaus. Besides, having her around as a friend is more important than me changing it. What we have is too precious for me to wreck," Caroline said, her voice fair, but firm. "And that's all we're going to talk about that, tonight. Because now we're both being mindful."

"Mindful," he agreed.

They swayed together a little while longer, enjoying the blurred company and not unbearable music, just wrapped up in each other.

"Soooo," she said, prettying her tone.

"What can I do for you?" he mused.

"I need alcohol, and I need you to get it, because if my Gran sees she's gonna yell at me."

"I heard," he said with disdain. "You might want to mention to her that popping pills at her age is extraordinarily dangerous."

Caroline gave him an incredibly pretty smile.

"But Klaus," she said sweetly. "When Granny dies, it'll be the last family funeral I'll ever have to go to."

A fond little smile pulled on his mouth.

"My wicked woman," he murmured, and kissed her mouth. "Go get something sweet to nibble on, love. I'll get the drinks."

She flicked her tongue against his retreating mouth, and tasted the lingering flavor of her own arousal on the hairs under his bottom lip.

"Damn," she said, not for human ears. "I taste good on you."

"Behave," he warned playfully. "Or I'm going to end up enacting that torrid little dream of yours. Under the table, with your legs over my shoulders."

"Get me a strong enough drink and I might let you."

Caroline giggled at the hope on his face, and turned toward the sweets table, clicking confidently over to it, many pairs of eyes following as she did. The prize was nearly in her hands when she heard her name being purposefully called, and turned to see her cousin Moira already indulging in a thin slice of chocolate cake.

"That's a nice dress, Caroline," Moira said politely.

"Oh, thank you," she replied, a little bewildered. The last time she'd spoken to Moira, they'd had a fight about Tyler. Apparently, Caroline should have served him better sexually if she wanted a ring on her finger. "You look nice, too."

"Thanks," Moira said. They looked at each other, the last conversation hanging in the air between them. "I heard about Tyler."

Ah. Yes. They had spoken maybe two or three months before the break up. The grapevine would've been quick to alight to her the awful news. Caroline was sure that Moira had let out at least one 'I told you so', if the rumor mill was to be believed.

"His loss," she assured her cousin, looking toward the food.

"Well, you lucked out," the shorter girl said pointedly. "Klaus is one-of-a-kind."

"I know," she said. She plucked a few cherries from a tray and arranged them on a section of plate. "Trust me. I know how special he is."

"Does he know about Tyler?"

"Does he know what about Tyler?"

"Like... how long ago you broke up?"

OH SHIT.

MOIRA KNEW TYLER.

MOIRA KNEW SHE HAD NOT BEEN DATING KLAUS.

Her brain screeched to a halt. Moira was patiently waiting, her eyebrows lifted.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I have messages about Tyler, from your number, with time and date attached," Moira said mildly. "Does Klaus know you were dating Tyler while you were together?"

"Not sure what it has to do with you," Caroline said coolly.

"Not a lot. Just enough." Moira gave her a somewhat weary smile. "I'll make it quick. If you don't give me a way to contact Tyler, I'm going to show Klaus the screen shots. And all the photos."

"What?" Caroline frowned. "Just Klaus? You're not going to show anyone else?"

"No. I get more out of you this way," she said easily. "I need a way to contact Tyler. If you don't give me something that gets his attention, I'm going to give the screen shots to Klaus."

"What do you want with Tyler's number?" she mumbled.

"Well obviously, dingus, I'm going to ask him out."

"Oh, Moira, don't," she said immediately. She shouldn't have. It was as good as sealing the deal, red flag to a bull. "He's trouble. Big trouble. He's not a nice guy."

"You were with him for years."

"It was a mistake. I was being stupid and stubborn. Don't tempt fate. What happened to Danny?"

"Danny makes 12 an hour," Moira said flatly. "If I want out of this town, I need some good money. Besides, word has it that Tyler is in and out of Mystic Falls all the time; I only need one invite and he can take me with him."

"Tyler isn't a nice guy," Caroline repeated. "I mean it. I'm not being weird or possessive about him - I'm telling you as someone who doesn't want to see you get hurt."

"Oh, Tyler didn't ever hurt you," Moira scoffed. "Come on. Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not," Caroline warned her. "And he did."

"Did he?"

They both turned to look at Klaus, who was terrifyingly calm, a flute of champagne in each hand. His brows were arched, gaze focusing on Caroline.

She swallowed.

"We can talk about it later, please," she said.

"Oh, I think we're out of things to set aside for later," he said. "We'd really best talk about it now."

Caroline swallowed.

She caught Moira's arm and stared into her eyes.

"You don't want Tyler," she compelled. "And you'll delete all of the texts and pictures you have of me dating him. You won't mention to anyone what you know about my dating history."

Moira dutifully repeated her instructions, pulling a phone out of her cleavage to delete the text threads and screenshots. It helped they had been organised into a singular file. The cousin took a plate of chocolate lava cake and walked to her chair without another word - she didn't even glance at Klaus.

"Not now," Caroline implored him, her hands twisting nervously in front of her stomach. "It's been a long day. I'm starving. We can't do this here."

"Now," he repeated. "Or I'm going to call him and ask what happened myself."

Her blood froze in her veins. The plate hastily dropped to the table without her looking where she was putting it, and she lifted her hands at him to placate him. If she talked, she could control how much he knew. There was nothing to guarantee he wouldn't call Tyler anyway, but she needed to try and temper the rage he was going to feel.

"Okay, okay, just wait." She took the flute of champagne and drank it all in several hasty gulps. Not quite able to look him in the eyes, she turned out into the dark night. Words, usually her friends, were failing her. "Outside. Let's go outside."


	18. Now

**Outside. Time to go.**

Klaus followed, a dark presence at Caroline's back. The door handles gave under her hands and the night breeze swept into the room, blowing out a stray candle and causing Bethany to demand that someone re-light it before the smoke had even curled into the air.

Shutting them behind her quickly, she walked onto the stone patio and twisted her hands together. A quick look around confirmed they were alone, which was more a curse than a blessing.

"Before you freak out," she prefaced the conversation. "I need you to listen to everything before you go off and do something I'll regret."

"I'm listening," he promised her.

"I haven't told anyone," she admitted.

He didn't say anything for a little while, but his gaze remained weighty on the side of her head. Eventually, he stepped closer, covering her nervously fiddling hand on the banister.

"What did he do?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," she replied. "But essentially... I didn't do something he asked me and he told me that he would bite me if I didn't change my mind."

Cupping a hand over his, she kept him nearby, and didn't let him leave. Although he immediately tried, she turned and dug her heels in, pursing her lips.

"Stop," she said.

"He threatened to _kill you_?"

"Yeah, look who's talking," she shot back.

"I never did so when I considered you mine," he said darkly. "That's different."

"Is it?" she demanded. "And since _when_ was I ever considered yours?"

It did not go unnoticed that he didn't answer the question.

"Yesterday, when we were having our row, you cowered from me when I raised my voice. You did it by virtue of the fact he had made you afraid of his teeth, and the venom within them." He narrowed his eyes, studying her. "You thought I would maim you, for having suffered under him. He didn't threaten you the once, did he?"

"He threatened to bite me _once_ , and once only," she said firmly. "The second I could leave, I did."

"He hurt you, then," he pressed. "You never fell to your knees in front of me before, not even when we weren't on the same side. I raised my voice aplenty, I threatened your friends, I even stabbed you through the guts and laid my teeth in you, and you never looked at me like you did yesterday. Tyler hurt you, didn't he?"

Her brain wasn't computing. Standing so close to him, with such a blind panic in her belly, was making her light headed.

"It doesn't matter-!" she exclaimed.

"Because you healed? Do you think that makes it alright, that he knew you healed quickly?"

"Stop," she said flatly. She felt like she couldn't breathe. "Just stop. You said you'd listen, and you aren't listening to me."

"Tell me," he goaded. "Explain. When did it start? What did he want you to do, that you so staunchly would not?"

"I'm not talking to you when you're like this," she said sharply. "Call the driver, I want to go home."

"Good, we can be in the car while I call Tyler and confirm." He flipped out his phone and sent a quick text, making her try and snatch the device from his hands. It was to the driver, as she had requested. He raised his eyebrows at her. "You said you'd talk."

"I also said I don't want to," she snapped. "I said it's been a long day, and I can't do this now."

"I will not waste any more of the earth's precious oxygen on that vile fucking bastard," he said with extremely punctuated steps toward her. His touch was deceptively gentle as he held her jaw, every inch of him tight and ready to start a fight. "I'm going to ask you just the once to explain to me what happened, and what you want me to do. If you decide that's not an option you'll agree to, I'm going to hunt the fucker down and write your name in his lower intestines regardless. Am I understood?"

She couldn't make her throat suck in all the air her bolting heart needed.

"Well - you killed - so, what happened was - you were going to kill Elena - and! And you killed his mom!"

"So is the nature of war," he ground out. "What of it?"

"So, you made him - he - went crazy - I've never seen him - seen anyone - be so mad -" She shook. Couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? "He was - the vampire emotions - I made you leave Mystic Falls because he - he wanted to kill you and I knew you'd - kill him first -"

His eyes darkened.

She didn't stop talking.

"I couldn't make him - not - I couldn't - he didn't want - there was nothing, I tried everything to bring him out of that dark, horrible - but his mom - his _mom_ , Klaus - he was so, so angry and hurt, and with the - with his emotions - he couldn't think-"

"If you're suggesting that my killing of his mother caused his hand to strike you," he said softly. "I will tear those hands from his person and give them to you in a gilded box."

"He- no - no, he didn't, not then - he - I - you -!" She heaved. The fine structure in her waist actually pierced her heaving flesh with a pop, and her hand pressed into her side, curling under the boning to try and give herself some room to breathe. Klaus just pulled the panel until it ripped. " _No_ , my _dress_ -!"

Gathering her up like a child, he sped them to the car, not bothering to wait for the vehicle to even slow to a stop before he unloaded her in. He took her dress and ripped it enough that her boobs were spilling out from underneath the in-built bra, and her entire hip was on display through the tear.

" _Klaus_ -!" she shouted, and smacked his hands, just for something to do. Her heels dug into the carpeted floor so she could push herself into the door as far away from him as she could, holding the fabric together with both sweaty hands.

"Tell me," he said, trying to be patient. "Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what he did."

He reached for her, then. The way he'd done a thousand times. Not rough or vicious in any way, but it was still perceived as a _threat_.

Her voice pitched into a scream when she next tried to speak, though it was completely out of her control. When she managed to swallow that, the next word came out a gasp instead. Her hand slapped across her chest, like there was a mute button, but all that came out was a terrified heaving for breath that she had nothing to do with.

His eyes... the horror.

Caroline felt sick. She pushed away to try and brace herself on the door, her shuddery breaths making her dizzier and dizzier.

"You're alright," he said, lifting a hand to her. "It's alright. I'm not cross with you. Breathe, Caroline. Breathe with me."

That sounded beyond difficult. So overwhelmed by the many, many atrocities of her day, piled against feeling her vulnerable, naked skin bare on the leather - her world spun, and she felt her eyes roll into her head a split second before head neck gave up holding her head, flopping to the side.

She'd never fainted, before, but she wasn't sure this was it. Still conscious, but unable to respond, she felt Klaus' hand cup her head before it hit the window, and he pulled her desperately tight under his chin, wrapping her up in a hug that felt more like he needed her than he thought she needed him.

Rousing after a few of his deliberately heavy breaths, she pawed at his shirt, and tried to sit up.

"Don't be frightened of me. I can't look at you when you're so frightened of me. I can't. I can't look at you." Hot hands ruined her carefully arranged hair and pressed into her back. "You're alright. I'm not cross with you. Just breathe, love. I'm not cross. You're safe."

"I know," she echoed. Her hands flattened on his chest. "I'm okay."

"You are not," he said bluntly. And yeah, that stung. Mostly because it was true. "You looked at me like that - and you fainted."

"It's just - hunger-"

" _Lie_." He hugged her tighter. "You needn't be frightened, love, not of me, not ever again. I won't hurt you. I won't. I swear."

"I know," she whimpered. "Stop saying that, I know who you are. I know I'm safe. It's okay, Klaus, I'm okay-"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, you're not. You aren't. You can't look at me like that, and plead his innocence. Tell me what he did, Caroline, and tell me what you want me to do. I'll obey you, I swear, to the letter of your word, I'll obey. Tell me what he did. You've never looked at me like that before."

A mournful sob was pulled out of her throat. She couldn't resist. He was too upset, too solidly there, too perfect. And of course, she _loved him_. She loved his fierce protectiveness, and she loved that he was allowing her to choose her course of penance.

Her sobbing turned into howling really, really quickly. Loud to her sensitive hearing. No one knew. No one knew but her and Tyler, what had happened. She clutched Klaus' body and let it go, rocked by him trying to lull her into a serenity that neither of them felt.

The car arrived home and she was still wailing, uncontrollable. There was snot and tears absolutely everywhere, and her boobs were hanging out of her dress and she had no panties on - everything was a fucking mess. Her phone was going off, no doubt full of angry texts from a family who shouldn't care that she had dipped out of the party unannounced, and she was hungry, again.

She straight up just pulled a strip of his shirt out from the chest pocket down so she could blow her nose and wipe her eyes before she surfaced. Now her head was throbbing and she looked like a molested Barbie, she put an arm over her boobs and head down low.

"Tell me."

"Please," she said, wobbling between them. "I don't want to talk about it."

His arms were stiff, but so warm around her, shifting across the seat to put her under his wing. Like an angel. A fallen one, maybe. He was shaken and she knew it, so she put a hand over his fingers and squeezed.

"I won't have you scared of some idiot boy I can so easily remove from your equation," he told her quietly. "I won't act without your instruction, Caroline, but he won't live another free day."

"Klaus..."

"I won't argue with you on this. He will suffer. Tell me how you want it."

"No-" her voice cracked.

"I'll collect him, put him in the dungeon, and he can wait there for you to decide." He decided.

"No, _no_ -"

"Yes," he insisted. "This is too much. You mean too much to me for my hands to stay idle. Tell me now what you want, and I will do it."

"I just - just stay, with me, don't - h-hurt him -"

"Not an option," he said dryly.

"Klaus, I- I just- I just need a minute, please. I have to get this under control." Her voice started to pitch in volume, and the words started to come faster than her tongue could make them. "I can't. Please, I can't think, I can't breathe, I don't want to talk in the car anymore please-!"

"Okay, okay," he soothed. He straight up just booted the door off the hinges, and picked her up. "Not here. Alright. We'll get you in a shower and I'll make you a blood ready. In my bedroom?"

That was a lot to ask.

"I want-!" Her volume cracked weirdly when he broached the front door. "I want - YOUR SHIRT - I don't WANT - I want - I DON'T WANT-!"

"Breathe," he reminded her, cooing gentle words as he zoomed up the stairs with her gathered to his chest like a baby. Klaus put her gently in the huge wedge shaped bath in what she suspected was Rebekah's ensuite, if the more floral decor gave her an indication. His warm hand smoothed over her ruined face and hair. "You're alright, love."

Elena's voice called her name from downstairs, and Caroline blubbered a little less, trying to suck it all back in behind her teeth. There was no way she was unloading this in front of her, no siree, no way no how. Elena had had enough, today. It wasn't about Caroline.

"Shall I stay here?" he fretted.

"Blood - and - bourbon," she hiccuped into her knees. 

He hesitated a second, then zoomed away. She wiped her face in her hands and pressed her fingers deep into her sockets. Distantly, she could hear Klaus saying something about a bad night, that she would be okay, that Elena didn't have to worry.

Elena was protesting, apparently already on the stairs, and coming up slowly, her gait still injured.

Knowing that Elena was going to see her in a shambles made the tears suck back into her throat. There was nothing to be done about the swelling around her eyes and the red blotches in her cheeks, but she could blow her nose on some toilet paper, pluck a robe from the back of the door, and pad out to meet her friend at the top of the stairs.

Elena was breathing hard, clutching the banister, her usually glowing face ashen with pain. She hadn't heard Caroline approaching, and startled to see bare feet on the stair above her, wrenching her head back with a click.

Still in Klaus' shirt and a borrowed pair of boxers, she was unfairly cute. Her long hair was silky over one shoulder, lashes dark around her eyes, even without makeup. The bruising under her eye was yellow, no longer black, and the bump on her nose was nearly completely gone.

"Hey," Elena puffed.

"Hi," Caroline said thickly.

"What did the bitch do now?" the doppelganger demanded.

Caroline managed a sad imitation of a giggle.

"Ignored me. Granny said I should marry Klaus and then get half his money before I move on to one of his brothers to get pregnant, and that it didn't matter they were gay because gay isn't real."

Elena made a noise of amusement, and eased up another step.

Elijah, beside her, arched a brow.

"I'm sorry," he said, very politely. "We would've had beautiful babies."

Caroline snickered at that, dabbing under her nose with the sleeve of her borrowed gown. She tucked back her mess of hair and offered her hands down to Elena, who took one and leaned on it to get herself up the last few stairs.

Her human heart was wild with the beat of her pain, and of her concern. Little hands closed on Caroline's cheek and smoothed back her stray wet hair over the shell of her ear, resting on the side of her throat.

Concern lined every feature on her pretty, elvish face.

"It's okay," Caroline said, strangled. "You know what it's like."

Elena's smile was very strained.

"Not usually like this."

Caroline plastered on a big smile.

"I'm fine. I'll get over it." Even though the voice was spot on for happiness, her eyes were still leaking. Her lips, pulled into that awful fake smile, were shaking to maintain it. "I'm so fine. I'm just really glad you're here, and you're safe."

Elena nodded serenely.

"Caroline, it's me, Elena." She raised her brows. "Not Bonnie. Not Matt. Not Tyler. I know you don't want to talk about it, but don't tell me you're fine. Tell me what you want me to do."

The false smile just washed off her. Her idiot hands touched Elena's cheeks with the reverence of someone touching a priceless work of art, then wrapped around the wrist that lead to her own face.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said thickly. "It's old news, and it's not important."

"It's about Tyler," Klaus announced. "Did you know he threatened to bite her?"

Elena went very, very still.

"No," she said on a breath. "I didn't."

"It's not important," Caroline said again. "Elena, it's old news, and I-I'm fine. It's fine. Okay? It's all fine. He didn't get me. It was ages ago, okay? I haven't even seen him since then."

"I have," Elena murmured. She took Caroline's hands, and linked their fingers. "And all this time, he was telling me... telling me that you were the one who was..."

"It's okay," Caroline said quickly.

"It's-" Elena strangled off the flat out refusal. "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter - nothing even really happened. I'm okay, I am," Caroline told her. "I have so many things to do. I'm so super busy. And with mom gone and final exams coming up and this weekend from hell, it's like, one less thing to worry about, right?"

Elena tightened her fingers in Caroline's.

"Right," she said softly. "Weekend from hell."

Caroline winced.

"Obviously I'm not comparing," she said quickly.

"Hell is just the worst kind of pain, Care. I just had my entire soul dragged out of my chest by someone I trusted," Elena offered, her husky voice pitched low. "So I think I know what that looks like. You look like what I feel like. And you've been dealing with this, alone, for how many months?"

"Like." Caroline flipped her hand around. "It's fine. He only threatened to bite me."

"I think he beat her, too," Klaus mumbled. "At least. I suspect more. I'll get it out of him once the vervain is out of his system."

Elena's dark eyes studied her.

"Did he?"

Caroline opened and shut her mouth, but no denial came. There was no point. Elena already knew the answer was _yes_.

Elena lifted her chin.

"What did he do?"

"Hey, I left the shower running," Caroline lied, and tried to step away. "I should really go and change that, it's pretty wasteful, but also I need to shower because I'm cold and like-"

"Then let's go," Elena said, and lead her toward the bathroom. She was only tiny, and human, but the pull of her hand latched onto Caroline's brain stem and made her start following.

Glancing down the stairs at Klaus, she shook her head.

"I don't want to," she said desperately. "I can't - he's gonna do something I'll regret."

"I'll keep him here, and his hands to himself." It was Elijah's gentle voice, the weight of his eyes, that made her hang her head in resignation. "We'll not listen."

Elena thanked him, because Caroline sure couldn't.


	19. The First Time

**Saturday Night. The Mikealson Residence, Rebekah's suite - 8:34 pm**

They showered together.

Elena washed her hair, and rubbed soap over her every bit, suds trailing behind her washcloth. Caroline just went where she was put, and shut her eyes whenever it felt too good to be true.

Once they were out of the water, Elena brushed and dried her hair. It had to be Rebekah's room because who else in the Mikealson residence would have blonde colored hair ties? Her pony tail was neat and clean and tied off with a loving kiss pressed to her cheek.

"When my feelings catch up with me about everything that happened this morning," Elena told her, running the brush over her hair, even though it was already detangled. "When I fall apart, can you tell me you love me?"

"I do love you," Caroline swore softly.

"I know, but I'm gonna need to hear it. Again and again." She took a seat on the dresser beside Caroline, clad only in a towel. Her own hair was piled on her head, the ends of it wet. She was so fucking beautiful, and sincere. "What are you going to need, when you tell me what he did to you?"

"I'm not sure." Caroline looked down at her hands. She was back in Rebekah's robe, and pulled the sleeves over her palms with a shrug.

"Care," Elena coaxed, rubbing her back with a water warmed hand.

"I don't _know_ ," she said, a touch harder. "I don't know what would make it easier. I was pretending it wasn't happening for so long it was just a thing that happened. And like, it’s done now, so… I don't know."

Elena waited. Her other hand closed on Caroline's fingers.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Yeah."

Another pause.

"What did he do?"

There had been lots of things. Some she had repressed. Some would creep up on her at random times, flash into her mind when she least expected it.

"He-" She fiddled with her sleeve. "Hit me."

"Where?"

"I heal."

"The fact he even hit you at all leaves a mark. Just because we can't see it, doesn't mean you don't feel it. I can't imagine what you went through, Caroline. Even guessing that he was capable of it makes me kind of wanna die."

"Don't say that," Caroline snapped.

"Why? It's true. That's how I feel, and I only know what he did in the barest sense." Her hands were so warm, full of pulsing blood. "You know I love you."

"I love you too," she said, and felt her anger ease away. “I know. It’s – it’s just done, now, though. I don’t really have room to talk about this kind of stuff, with everything else that’s going on.”

“Is it the wedding?”

“Kinda. But there’s – you know, you, and work, and my family. Tyler – he’s not a threat to me anymore. He’s not even in my top three of Things That Keep Me Up At Night.”

“What are your top three?” Elena wondered.

1) Klaus

2) Bethany

3) Desiccating

Although 3) Desiccating had recently become 3) Elena.

But Caroline couldn’t very well just say that, could she? So she shut her eyes and breathed deeply, and opened them to smile softly at her friend. Giving her tiny human hands a squeeze, she perked up.

“I think I’ve got it under control. It’s just a bit of a juggling act, right now. But it’s fine! It’s totally fine. You know I have exemplary multi-tasking experience!” Laughing, she pretended to be interested in her face, and neatening an already perfect hair do.

Elena gave her a _look_. It was cute, but dangerous, because it was so pointedly _not fooled_ by the pep. Elena’s head was tilted and her eyes were dark and focused on hers in the mirror, patiently waiting for Caroline to fill the void of silence between them. Because she knew that Caroline hated a lapse in conversation, and the icky feeling of being uninteresting or ignored. The bitch.

She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Maybe if she was honest, but understated, Elena would just… Let her get away with it? It had been a big day. Shouldn’t the human be tired by now? (How alarming she couldn’t remember what it was like to be human. It hadn’t even been that long since she had technically died.)

Elena ruined her aborted attempt to distract her by putting her small, warm hand on Caroline’s shoulder. She gave it a fond rub, and scooted close enough that they were touching at the hip.

“He threatened to bite me. He didn’t say-“ She sucked in a shaky breath. “He didn’t _say_ it, exactly, but he implied that he didn’t care if Klaus didn’t give me his blood as the antidote. He – he said I’d just have to play nice with him and earn it. But that-... threatening to bite me was _it._ That was the -... The last straw. Everything else could heal, but not that." Her hands curled around the fabric on her lap.

Elena kept rubbing her back.

"What did Klaus say when he found out?"

"He asked me what I wanted him to do. I don't know what I want him to do."

Elena's heart kicked. It was a strange reaction. It wasn’t fear exactly – more like excitement.

"Do you want Tyler dead?"

"I don't know," she said again. Shifting uncomfortably on her seat, very aware that they were bare under their minimal robe and towel, she shook her head. "I can't talk about this anymore. It's old news. I'm so tired of it. It’s done, and I just want it to stay done."

“It’s okay.” Elena pulled Caroline in under her chin, laying the vampire's cheek to her naked chest. Caroline inhaled the scent of the human's freshly washed skin, and tucked her arms around her tiny waist. In her husky voice, so close to Caroline’s ear, she murmured: “It’s okay. Take a minute and breathe. You’re with me, and we’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” Caroline echoed. Her mind was filled with bruises and cuts. Some of them were hers, but most were the ones she had witnessed on her tiny friend’s body only a handful of hours ago. The scent of her blood, when she had been able to smell it, had been-… Actually, for all the hunger that Caroline had been struggling with?

Elena’s blood might’ve smelled wrong.

There had been no insane, uncontrollable urges to consume it. At the time, Caroline had been so sure it was because she was in shock for seeing all that horrible damage on one of her favourite people, but-… Hadn’t she nearly jumped the bar in New Orleans because one guy nicked his finger? Hadn’t she spilled half a bag of blood down her front just to get to the next one a little quicker?

For several long moments, Elena held her there, soothing her half to sleep with the lull of her thudding heart. She was rubbing Caroline's back, a warm pillar of support, pouring every inch of her love and affection into the cuddle.

"Caroline," she said quietly.

"Mm?"

“You don’t have to answer me if it’s too hard,” she prefaced. “But I was just wondering… Did Tyler threaten to bite you to become Klaus-bait, or because wouldn't do it?"

Caroline inhaled deeply.

"He said my choice was sex or death," she whispered. "If I didn't want to do it with my body, he'd bite me and use me to do it anyway."

Elena pressed her shaking mouth to the top of her head, tightening her arms around her.

"Oh my god. Caroline."

"I _think-_!" She had to wait for her weird volume to get back under control. She was very mindful never to squeeze Elena’s fragile waist too tightly. "I think, maybe, I finally got out because I knew Klaus _would_ come if I was in trouble. I don't think I-... I don't think I left for myself. I think I left for Klaus."

"Klaus is important to you."

Caroline didn't think there were words stronger than _yes_. She turned her cheek and looked up at Elena, wondering if she would decipher the terrible realization she'd had so recently. Of course, it took Elena about three seconds to hit the nail on the head.

 _You love him back_ , she mouthed.

Caroline nodded, and Elena hugged her even more tightly.

That wasn't going to cut it, not by a long shot. The vampire turned square on and accidentally knocked the towel loose, feeling Elena's bare body press against hers. The human was burning, the temperature of her, the heat was enough to make Caroline want to cry. All that separated them was Rebekah's robe – it felt like a blessing and a strait-jacket.

Elena, despite being naked from the waist up, didn't so much as try to drag up the towel. She just rubbed Caroline's back and ran her fingers through the ends of her pony tail.

"Did you think that before this weekend?"

"No."

Elena sucked in a hard breath.

"So, not all this time?"

"Uhm-?" Caroline's greedy hands dug into her bare back, her fingers skittering on the forbidden skin. This was her best friend, for Christ sake. A _not-lesbian_ best friend. She needed to get a grip!

"Wow." When Elena leaned out of her embrace, a forearm crossed her chest to bar Caroline's already looking eyes from her bare breasts. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, I don't know about that, either. Maybe it's been cooking for a while, but things... over the last few days..." She trailed off. There was no way to explain that she'd realized she was already in love with Klaus. She found her hand, so much paler than Elena's skin, reaching out to a fading scar that had only hours before been a chunk of missing flesh.

It made goose bumps burst along the human's skin, the hairs on her arms raising under Caroline's eyes.

"It's not so bad, any more," Elena mentioned. "Do you want to see?"

Caroline should've said _no_.

"Do you want to show me?"

The first release of her breasts made Elena straighten her back, and bite into her lip, her dark eyes hooded as she gauged Caroline's reaction.

And see, here's the thing. Caroline should've known better than to let her best friend see her open-book of a face, especially when it had been confirmed time and again that she was always aware of Caroline's true inner dialogue.

When her hand hovered in the air between them, Elena took it, and slowly moved it to the dents in her skin. Her heart skipped a beat with the light stroke she directed, only using Caroline's fingertips to do it.

And like - there was a plethora of reasons for her to stop. The timing was fucking awful. She had just figured out she loved Klaus. Exploring the -... gayness... Was not supposed to be a thing that happened. Especially when Elena was going through the motions of mourning, and being forced to kill, and having survived something truly terrible. But… didn’t love conquer all, or something?

"Nothing hurts anymore," Elena said on a breath.

Caroline nodded absently, her mouth open. She breathed quietly as she could, but it was still loud enough to hear how deep and needy it was. When Elena arched her back, the tip of her fingers touched an already pebbling nipple. It was a dusty brown color, nothing like Caroline's. Her fingers started swirling around it and Elena inched forward on the chair, swallowing loudly.

Caroline wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to have the will to stop.

But when she looked at Elena, she saw it as plain as day: _Don't stop. Touch me. Love me._

"I love you," she offered.

Elena plucked the towel from her hips and let it drop to the floor, a nervous sweat already making her forehead shine.

"I love you, Care," she murmured.

Caroline's eyes dropped to the neatly kept thatch of hair between Elena's legs. The way she was sitting astride the chair made the tender inside exposed to her eyes. The pulse in her was so hard it was visible in the thin skin, already flushed and full of blood.

"I love you," she told it. She moved her palm against Elena's breast, and scooted a little closer, looking at her whole face. "I love you."

Elena was the one who leaned forward to start the kiss. She pushed her boob into Caroline's hand, and sucked on her lower lip. She was shaking, her fingers knocking a few times on her cheek, before settling against her skin. She kissed Caroline a little deeper, exhaling into her open mouth.

"We shouldn't," Caroline whispered.

"Oh, okay," Elena said, and pulled back. "I- sorry, Care, I'm so sorry-"

"It's not-" Her words failed when Elena swung her leg over the stool and bent to retrieve her towel. Embarrassment was making her cheeks pink and her shoulders were hiking. "It's only - the timing -"

"And Klaus," Elena acknowledged. "I know, I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, not Klaus, he doesn't care- I'm pretty sure he doesn't, anyway. No. Not him, or me, or you, or Elijah -" She reached over and pulled on the towel to make Elena face her, but Elena couldn’t look directly at her face. "It's - this morning, and -"

"Damon's dead," Elena said tightly, turning her head away. "I just thought - before you commit to - it's nothing, don't worry about it, I just-"

Caroline pulled her over by the hip and made Elena sit down on the vanity, clutching her sweet, pink face between two nervous hands. At the first sign of a tremble in her lip, Caroline kissed it still. She had wanted, so long, to kiss her like that. Make her whimper and wrap her arms around her, the way Elena delivered.

But was it real?

Elena, bare-assed on a vanity? Open, willing, wet and only for her? Wasn't this the fantasy that Klaus had painted earlier, in the car?

Eh. She might as well lean in to this one. At least it would give her something fun to tell Klaus later.

Caroline's determined fingers yanked Elena's hair tie apart so her tumble of hair fell over her back and shoulders, though a healthy amount was left pinned by her head against the mirror.

"Caroline." Elena's hands fussed clumsily with the tie on her waist and Caroline threw off the gown as soon as it was undone, her whole body gravitating to the heat between Elena's thighs, which shut and locked around her without prompt. The vampire hitched her prize forward with a grabby hand full of ass, feeling the heat of Elena's pussy kiss the soft front of her belly.

"Oh my god," Caroline panted. "I've wanted you for so _fucking long_ -"

"Oh my god, me too. _Me too_. You're so beautiful -"

"So long, Elena, so many years-"

"I know," the human gasped. "I know, _I know-_ "

Caroline reveled in the slow up and down drag of her breasts against Elena's. She shut her eyes, peppering kisses all over her friend's angelic face. Her brow, her cheek, over both eyes, her nose. Then her lips, which made Elena whine softly, and bow her back to get more pressure on their front.

"Touch me," she gasped. "More, touch me."

"Are you sure?"

" _Ugh_ , yes, you feel so amazing and I need you to -"

Caroline stopped the words with a kiss, sucking insistently on Elena's tongue until she relinquished control of it with a breathy groan that Caroline could swallow. She smoothed her hands up Elena's back and felt the disappearing lumps and welted scars, feeling the tiny waist with both hands, and down to cup her ass, bringing her solidly against her stomach.

There was a hitch of Elena's hips, a slow grind, and then she pulled out of the kiss to pant for breath, rubbing her breasts on Caroline's.

"I don't want to mess up things for you and Klaus," she said softly. "I know he's - I know you're really like-... I know you'll want to only be with him."

Her trembling, tiny hands would not stop moving, wondering down Caroline's front to fearlessly weigh each breast in her curious hands. She dragged thumbs over the tightening rosebuds of the vampire's nipples, and then swiped her touch down Caroline's quivering belly to tickle the blonde curls at her mound.

Caroline picked her up, feeling the delightful squish of her blooming lower lips on her stomach. She kind of wanted to keep them like that until Elena came, crying her name, but Elena reared back and shifted upward, putting her boobs level with Caroline's mouth.

"Will he be mad?" she asked softly. Still, she allowed Caroline to suck on her nipple, gazing down at her, hips undulating on her waist. She squeezed her thighs when Caroline gave the barest scrape of teeth over the sensitive outer flesh of her areola. "Care, will Klaus be mad?"

_It's not real, so probably not._

Elena was talking too much. Too coherent for a fantasy. So Caroline moved her mouth over to the other breast, sucking hard enough to earn a squeal of surprise, and lowered her to Rebekah's bed, sweeping her pony out of the way.

Elena's hands were not idle, once she was on her back. She grabbed Caroline's boobs in urgent hands and squeezed, pressed them together, moving, manipulating, every new sensation a delight on her face. She licked her lips and accepted Caroline's kiss, this time claiming her lip with teeth.

" _God_ ," Caroline moaned, pulling her lip free with a pop. She looked down at Elena, who was still fondling her boobs, enraptured with the feel of them. "Are you happy?"

"Uh huh," Elena's dazed voice floated up. "Can I kiss these, too? I want to. I want to do what you just did to me. It felt amazing. Why didn't I know boobs could feel that good?"

"Did uh, any one ever, like, did they ever suck on-?"

"Not really?" Elena stared up at her face. She smiled, and Caroline was putty; she wobbled her weight down, throwing a leg over Elena's to claim a thigh, baring down to rub her own slick against it. "Do I feel good?"

"Uh huh."

"Should I touch you?"

"Don’t stop," was Caroline's instruction.

"Do you like the boob, thing?" she asked timidly. "Should I touch you somewhere else?"

"Boobs are good," Caroline agreed, grinding with intent. Shit. She'd already had three orgasms earlier, but this one was gonna go off like a firework. Vampire hormones, man, why did she never fuck anyone? "Oh, god, fuck. I can smell you from here. I wanna lick it."

"Really?" Elena's brows shot up. She licked open her lips. "Do-... Are you sure?"

"I've literally never been sure of anything in my whole _entire life_." Stealing a kiss, she humped Elena's smooth leg for the last time, then sucked a path of fading hickies down to her pubes. She set up with a tanned thigh on either side of her head, and buried her nose against the shortly cropped hair, inhaling hard. " _Oh my god_."

"What, is it bad?"

"It's -" Caroline dragged her tongue up through the mess. "Fucking - _perfect_."

"Oh okay." Elena shyly pulled a pillow over her face, and muffled, said: "Have you done this before?"

"Nope."

"Oh cool. Me either. Let me know when you want me to do it to you, okay?"

For a few minutes, Caroline went a little mad on figuring out what made sense where. She used a lot of Klaus' tricks (because Klaus was the best at head, and she wanted to make a good first impression on the hallucination version of Elena). When the doppelgänger whimpered, she doubled her effort to earn a high pitched keening. When she gasped, Caroline repeated it until she was rolling on the bed with the struggle to buck into and away from that overwhelming pleasure. She licked into her fluttering hole only a few times to make sure that the slide of her tongue was good and easy, unsure if the events of the morning would leave her reluctant to have anything inside her.

"Oh oh oh oh, oh my _god_ , oh ohm- mm- _mmh_!" Elena crushed the pillow over her face only for Caroline to pull it away and toss it blindly behind her, sucking neatly at her clit and flicking it with her tongue - the new trick Klaus had performed in the car. "Holy _shit_ , Caroline, I'm gonn-na -!"

When she did come, she didn't whimper or scream. She did, however, groan: " _Car-o-line-_!" and rock her hips, legs tensing to force herself closer to Caroline's face. She rode the wave of pleasure with her head tilted back and hands buried in the vampire's hair, so obviously when she was a little more still, her throat needed several quick, Elena flavored kisses.

Caroline laid down between her human's lax legs, laying her cheek to the still heaving breast, listening to a gorgeous heart race under her ear.

Elena wrapped her arms around her, breathless, still squirmy. When she had a bit of breath back in her, she tilted Caroline's face up to her and sucked on each of her lips, swiping her tongue around her mouth in a leisurely circle.

"My turn?" she said hopefully.

"Uh, so, I already came," she whispered in confession. "I came like, as soon as I started eating you out. I was touching myself. My bad."

"Oh." A naughty smile cocked on her full mouth. "Can you come again?"

Caroline giggled.

"It'll be my fifth orgasm today, so probably not?" She kissed the soft ' _wow_ ' Elena breathed out, and settled back down on her boob with a contented smile. "Yeah, I know."

“I didn’t think it could be like this…” Elena said in wonder. “I mean-… I know it was-… Physical, but it – we – connected-… it felt more…”

“It’s more,” Caroline agreed, but was post-orgasm dazed and a little bewildered that the drift had gone on so long.

Oh well. No point in looking a sexy gift horse in the mouth. While the going was good, Caroline snuggled up to the still panting human, and let it keep going.


	20. Unreal

Elena stroked her hair, trailing fingertips down on her shoulder. She followed the line of it down Caroline’s arm, and then linked their fingers palm to palm. She brought it over to her mouth, kissed each nail, and then laid it beside her head, still in the singular fist.

"Do you have to go back to Klaus?" Elena asked softly.

"Huh? No," she said quickly. "No. You asked me earlier. I said I'd stay with you. Unless- oh, shit, do you want me to go?"

"No! No, no," Elena amended. "No, I don't, but if you want to go talk to him, or-"

"It's okay. This isn't real. He'll be fine."

"What do you mean?" Elena said softly.

"He was talking to me about it earlier. We're cool. I mean, I don't know if he expected us to - like, you know. Do this, but it doesn't matter because this is a drift and I'll just tell him about it later."

"That's what I mean...” Elena said slowly. “What's a drift?"

"A drift. A daydream. It isn't real." Caroline yawned. “Us. And the sexiness. Wasn’t real.”

"Uhm," Elena said. "Unless I died, this is pretty real."

"You're alive," Caroline muttered. "You're hot, and alive, and right here, with me. It's the sexy part that isn't happening."

"Why do you keep _saying_ that?" There was a crack of devastation in her voice that made Caroline's lazy head rocket up.

"The hallucinations,” she said, blinking hugely. Something was dawning on her then… horror. A slow, waking realization that started to sting the inside of her brain.

"What hallucinations?" Elena pressed, her doe eyes wide and guilty.

"The-... The hallucinations. The ones about sex and blood.” Caroline shook her head faintly. “This isn't real."

"I am real. This was all real.” Elena's voice was strained. She was tight all over, trying to escape from Caroline's weight until she could put her back on the bedhead, shutting her knees and crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you mean, hallucinations?"

"The-" Caroline studied her face, but there wasn't an inch of deceit. Just a slowly deepening pit of horror, and a pair of glazed, frightened eyes. "Hang on, just _wait_ a second. Did we really just – like – fool around, a little bit?"

“Yes.” Elena’s eyes were darting between hers. Her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird’s. “Caroline, are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I- I just need-“ She scrambled off the bed, pulling on the fluffy robe. Her clumsy arms jammed into each sleeve and the belt was shut tight at the waist with shaky hands. “Hang on, I just need an assist-“

"With what? Why would you be having hallucinations?” Elena clutched a pillow to her chest, hiding the place at the crux of her legs. “Are you alright-? Is it a spell?"

"I don't know," Caroline said. "We aren’t sure yet, but Klaus is gonna figure it out-"

"But you didn't think this was real, the whole time?" Elena stressed. "The whole time, you thought I wasn't -? That we weren’t really-?"

"Like, yeah, but not -"

"Oh my _god_."

"It's not bad, like, I wanted to, I just-"

"Thought there was no consequences. Oh my god. Oh my _god_ , Klaus is gonna kill me. Again."

“He’s not gonna kill you,” Caroline placated, lifting her hands at her. The whole act of trying to be reassuring was moot, because her hands were shaking. “It’s okay, he’s not-”

"Caroline, he's gonna be _pissed_ -" Elena shot back. Elena pulled the decorative throw blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself as she skipped quickly to the door.

"He's not -"

"Yeah right, that's all I need, another vampire brother pair to get in the middle of." At her frightened skip toward the door, Caroline went after her, feeling made of air.

"'Lena," she said, devastated. "Elena. Hey, _wait_ , wait a second-"

"Just-" She held up a hand to stop Caroline's advance. All her hair was in her face, and she clawed it up and back. At least the lump in her arm was gone, and her eye was back to normal. A few more hours and her nose would be cute and straight like always, and the marks of scars had already faded into nothing.

Feeling self-conscious, Caroline readjusted her robe, chewing into her lip. She wanted to say something that would make Elena calm down and stay with her so she could explain what was actually going on, but what actually happened was she got too shy to say what she felt.

"Just..." Elena looked at the floor, and seemed to make a decision. "It was just a mistake. That's all. You thought I was someone else."

It felt like someone had just sucker punched Caroline in the lung. She widened her eyes.

"No," she said, mortified. "No. I knew it was you, I love you, I wanted to-"

"You thought I wasn't real," Elena rationalized, sliding her hand through the air at her. "That's not - you never- like, consented-“

“I one hundred per cent have always wanted to kiss you, and touch you, the way we just did,” Caroline vowed. “I knew it was you, Elena. I knew what I wanted, and who I wanted it with.”

“But you were hallucinating. We've never done anything like that before, so it must be because of-"

"You always had a boyfriend before," Caroline said desperately. "Or I did! Don't be mad, please don't be mad, I do, I did want to kiss you, and do - all of that, all the time before, but you always had a boyfriend and then when you started dating Stefan I for sure thought you didn't like girls."

"I don't," Elena said blankly. "I just like you."

Caroline wanted to cry, but her tear ducts were swollen shut.

"I didn't even know _I_ liked girls," she said wetly. "Or some girls. I don't even know now. But you were always my girl. I don't know what it _means._ I don't know anything. There are so many things right now - I just - you were always… and you'll always be, the girl I..."

Elena willfully looked away, shoulders stiff and the tendons in her neck strained.

"Okay," she said.

" _Lena_ ," Caroline pleaded, but she wasn't sure what she was begging for.

"No, it's fine," Elena said, the way someone might say they were fine if they had just been stabbed repeatedly. "There's been a lot of emotions and we're both like, really stressed, and it's _fine_. We're good. I get we just needed to be - close, to someone who was safe. It's just a, a thing, that happened, and doesn't need to happen again."

Caroline wanted to hide her ugly crying chin but couldn't unclamp from hugging herself.

"It's not just because-" she sniffed, and it made Elena look at her, at least. "It's not, it's not just stress, I love you, I do love you so so much-"

"Yeah, I know," Elena murmured. "I love you too."

"It's not stress," Caroline insisted. "We aren't stressed."

"I'm the most stressed I've ever been in my life," Elena told her. "And you too. It's okay that it was just - being close and feeling good. I'm not mad. It just - it happened, and that's okay, and now we can forget about it and you can go hang out with Klaus, and I'll go hang out with Elijah, and that's where we'll leave it."

"But-" Caroline started, then stopped, pressing her lips together. Something Elena had said earlier wiggled in her ear. "What do you mean, ‘get in the middle of vampire brothers’? Getting in the middle of who?"

Elena blinked once, twice, and then stepped back a little. She was... guilty?

“It’s not getting in the middle.“ Elena tried to explain. “I don’t mean, like, romantically.”

Seeing as Caroline had been with Klaus, Kol and Finn were both dead; there was only one other vampire brother that she could possibly be alluding to.

"What happened with Elijah while we were at the dinner?" she prompted.

Elena put her shoulders back.

"I made a deal with him," she said simply, and tightened her arms on the blanket.

"What?" Caroline said, followed by a louder, angrier version. " _What_?!"

"It's not a big deal," she said with a defiant tilt to her chin.

"What deal?" Caroline said loudly. Her shyness evaporated, the arms around herself for comfort falling to her sides. "Another one? With _him_? What deal? What does he want?"

"He doesn't want anything from me, that's the point," Elena said, voice hard. Her throat flexed around a nervous swallow. "He didn't ask, I offered."

"Offered what!"

"Don't yell at me," Elena snapped.

"I’m not yelling! What deal? Why did you make a-? Why is it always with _him_?" Caroline rallied. Both hands flung up in the air at her. "God, I shouldn't have left you alone with him-!"

"I am not an idiot, and if I want to make deals with Elijah-"

"You'd be better off dealing with the devil!"

"Better than dating one!" Elena said tartly.

"I am not - dating - Klaus, and he isn't that bad!"

"Yeah, try telling that to someone he didn't tell he was gonna bleed to death to make an all-powerful hybrid army!" Elena said hotly. "If I want to make my deals so I feel safe, I will!”

"He compelled you," Caroline retorted. She didn't think it was true, but it did what she designed it to do, which was hurt Elena's feelings. God, she was hungry. Where was Klaus with the blood and bourbon? "Obviously, you’re - compromised. Let's get some vervain back into your coffee so you can see that I’m -"

"Excuse _you_ ," Elena said dangerously. "I haven't been actively hallucinating, unlike _some_ people. I know exactly what's going on."

"What's going on?!" Caroline repeated, squarking. "What's _going on_ is you let a crush on an Original convince you that he was safe enough to-"

"Elijah is safe. Elijah has always _been_ safe. Elijah has _proven_ , more than once, that he is good for his word. Unlike certain other hybrids who have threatened to kill us both, and yet you don't hear me saying you're stupid for inviting him to a wedding you could've just _not gone to._ "

It hung in the air between them. This had to be the worst fight they'd ever had.

Caroline wilted like a dead flower. She lost all of her anger, and all of her jealousy. She was of course, incredibly jealous, that Elena had already made some deal with the elder Mikealson.

Sort of numb, Caroline nodded as though she understood, when in reality she knew nothing. She looked at the roof, hands smoothing over the sides of the damp dressing gown.

"Caroline," Elena said, strained. "Care. I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did. It makes sense." She shrugged and tied the belt into two knots. "I mean, I'm the definition of stupid. I do stupid things all the time for people to love me."

"You're not stupid," Elena started on an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

"No, I actually am. I am stupid, but it's really specific. I do stupid things for people that will make them love me. I do it literally all the time. I'm not joking." She looked at Elena, her smile unkind. "You wouldn't know about that. People just love you, and want to be with you, and put you first without you even having to ask. You wouldn't know about having to try to get them interested, or all the lengths you'd go to keep them."

"I love you," Elena pointed out. "I put you first. You never had to seduce me, Care, I love-"

"No, not sex. Not seducing. I mean, literally everyone. Everyone in my whole life who I need to love me, I have to try. I'm stupid, I know, but that's the trade off when you're unwanted." She slid her hands into the pockets of the gown. "My mom would rather work, my dad left me-"

"Your dad left your mom, he didn't leave you."

"Actually, what happened was, an adult man had a daughter in a relationship he didn't want, and ran away without so much as a letter of Crushed Dreams to explain even a hint of what that was about. I mean - come on. It's like, a gross pattern. I thought Damon wanted to date me. That was _so stupid_."

"He compelled you, Caroline, it wasn't ever fair."

"Yeah, but he didn't compel me not to figure out he was using me to get to you, by the way, he just told me to _shut up, bleed for me,_ and _stop crying_. But I still couldn't figure out that wasn't love!" She felt weirdly triumphant that Elena was starting to cry. But she was on a roll, and so she kept going. "And then we get to Tyler, and boy, I let him do whatever he wanted so he would love me! For months, I let him hurt me, because he _needed_ to, because he was so angry his mom was dead and he couldn't help it! He told me that hurting me made him feel better, so I _let_ him hurt me."

Whatever Elena was going to say didn't make it past her teeth.

"When we look at the whole Tyler thing from a distance, he was just using me to get to Klaus! That's two for two! The most interesting thing about me is all the people I know!” She cheered, like it was something so exciting to be used repeatedly. “And now we get to Klaus! Who you already hate!"

"I don't hate Klaus," Elena protested. "But with the history between us, can you really expect me to like that he’s still in my life?"

“He’s not in your life, he’s in mine,” Caroline snapped.

“He’s not safe!” Elena exploded. “He’s a maniac who is completely obsessed with you-!”

"You don't know what it's like, when no one wants you," Caroline reminded her bitterly. “At least I know that whatever he wants isn’t by using me. He actually wants me.”

"He's-!” The human struggled for words. “Not safe!”

"I don’t care. I need him like I need blood, Elena, like I'm gonna die," she said boldly. "I need him to want me more than his Hybrid army. Tyler couldn't tell me I was the one. Klaus can."

Elena wiped two tandem tears away from her face.

"You can't tell me," the doppelgänger said into her hands. "That you'd be happy if someone threatened you, and then I dated them."

Caroline was pretty sure her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.

Was this bitch for real?

Clapping her hands to make her point, she yelled:

"DA-MON _FUCK_ - _ING_ SAL-VA-TORE!"

Elena tucked her arms around herself and put her eyes on the floor. She didn't say anything for a second, just stared at nothing and let her hair slide over her ear. She scooped it back, and nodded, the vein on her forehead popping as she started to well up.

"I'm even stupid for thinking you'd ever want to-... You know. Whatever _this_ was." Caroline cast her hand in a circular motion at the bed. " _Whatever_. It doesn't matter. You can forget it, fine, go forget it. I'm gonna leave you, like you want me to."

"I didn't _say_ that," Elena defended hotly.

"You were walking out."

"Because I was embarrassed that it took a full on hallucination to make you want to be with me," Elena muttered. "And that I took advantage of you without you knowing it was real.”

“Well that wasn’t your fault,” Caroline hastily reminded her.

“I was gonna come back,” Elena informed her tightly. “I just needed some clothes and a chance to catch my breath."

"Breath caught, blanket found," Caroline chirped. "If you don't mind, I have a wedding to prepare for, and I guess you'll be busy with Elijah doing - whatever the fuck you two get up to when I'm not around - so. Goodnight."

There wasn't anything that Elena could say to make her stop her stride, intending to march herself straight downstairs to grab the bourbon and blood before she was gonna disappear in Klaus' bed for at least ten hours.

Nothing she could've said, of course, was not the same thing as something she did. Elena squared herself at her. Only clad in a blanket, and the fading suck marks on her throat, she had no right to be so intimidating to Caroline, who tried really hard to maintain eye contact when the blanket fell in a pool around her feet.

Her small, warm hands, hesitant and trembling, reached out to Caroline's robe. She wrapped each finger around the fluffy material, batting another tear from her lashes. A timid step forward was followed by a shaky inhale.

"You don't have to touch me," she rasped. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "You don't have to talk to me... but please stay. I don’t want us to fight, and I don’t want to be alone."

The tension stretched like barbed wire between them for a split second.

Caroline softened, her hands unfurling from the tight fists in her pockets. She wanted to embrace her, hold her head close to her undead heart. The cuddle puddle she had been promised earlier sounded like the perfect cure to this torn state of affairs. She didn't know what had happened that had made everything spiral out of control, but she was pretty sure it was her being jealous.

It had to be jealousy, because instead of instantly bowing to the plea, she said:

"Are you really happy to make a deal with Elijah?"

"Happiness is relative. A few minutes ago I was so happy I could've sworn Damon had killed me, and I was in heaven, to feel you want me like I've tried not to want you. Now... Less happy."

Elena shrugged, and pulled the robe apart, slowly parting the gown to see Caroline's revealed skin. Her eyes were smoldering in their intensity, laving each new revealed inch with a physical weight.

"Elena, he's old and really smart,” Caroline cautioned. She shook her head faintly. “I don't know him."

"And what I know about Klaus is that he killed my aunt, and wanted to kill me, until you asked him to give us time to find a solution."

Caroline caught her breath as the robe was dragged off her shoulders, the air cold on her nipples. Elena didn't untie the knot at her waist, just pulled the fluff back to lift her hands slowly to Caroline's boobs, palming each one.

"I don't want to make your choices for you.”

"No," Elena said, in much the same way. "You just want me to only choose you. You always want me to only choose you."

Caroline couldn't _not_ touch her - she was so pretty, and soft, and clearly interested - she put her hands around Elena's tiny waist and pulled her in.

"You don't have to touch me," she reminded the vampire. “We can just sleep.”

"Does it make you feel better?"

Elena replied by sucking her nipple into a stiff peak, flicking her tongue like a kitten. It was maddening. Caroline slumped against the doorframe, eyes fluttering shut.

"What's the deal?" she mumbled.

Elena parted the robe on the waist and slid her hands inside, her cautious fingertips grazing over Caroline's ribs. She stroked her back, and pulled off her boob to make eye contact, her mouth already swollen a different colour pink.

"He's gonna keep me safe," she murmured. "And I’m gonna help him find a way Klaus can use my blood for hybrids without anyone having to die. Is that okay with you?"

It wasn't really the right time to answer honestly.

Caroline hauled the cheerleader up around her waist, tilting her head back to kiss eager lips. She turned them back into the bedroom, kicking the door shut, and laid Elena out on the bed like she was made of glass.

"We don't have to do anything else," Caroline told her.

“Is Klaus gonna be mad if we-?” Elena asked quickly.

Caroline shook her head.

“No. Promise.”

"I mean," Elena murmured. "If you don’t want to-"

“I want to. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

The vampire managed to drag her gaze up her toned belly and to her dusty nipples, the strained line of her throat and hungry, open mouth.

"Tomorrow, we gotta talk about this stuff," she mentioned. "After the wedding. There's gonna be like, two seats between us, and strong coffee, and... more clothes."

"Yeah," Elena sighed. Her free hand clutched her breast, and Caroline's mouth watered to see the spill of it in between her caged fingers. "And your uh – hallucinations. You have to – catch me up on that. Are you with me now?”

“Hell yeah, I’m with you,” Caroline promised.

“Okay,” Elena said breathily. “So how about you get under me so I can figure out how to make you come on my hand?"

What the fuck was she supposed to say to that?

No?


	21. Adrift?

** Saturday Morning. Rebekah's Bed. ??? o'clock **

Caroline, despite having fallen asleep quite early, had not stayed asleep. Elena's weighty head was on her breast, her arm slung familiarly around her waist, a leg claimed between her thighs.

When they were young, they would migrate in the night to sleep that way. But a few hours ago, after seeing Elena come for her again, the little human had been lax and content to cuddle up to her without the pretense of being asleep.

Caroline ran her nails over the long dark tresses spilling over her arm, beginning to drift again. She wasn't sure what had woken her, so she closed her eyes and decided to fall back into her slumber.

And then the thump.

Broken glass.

Something hard butting against a wall.

Caroline didn't have to open her eyes to strain her ears outward, hearing panting and Klaus' familiar baritone growl. Flesh hit flesh, Elijah grunted, and then silence for a moment, before the unmistakable sound of a body hitting a hollow wall.

"She doesn't want you to go," Elijah said tightly. "I've been tasked with keeping you occupied. Don't make a liar of me."

"Get out," Klaus said through his teeth. "Of my way."

"If you collect that boy without Caroline's instruction you'll be going against her wishes," Elijah retorted, voice hard. "Is that what you want?"

"I want him to suffer," Klaus bit out. "Better start bleeding him out now for when she is done with the wedding and wishes to focus her attentions elsewhere."

"You're not going," Elijah said with real distain. "Not tonight. I'll gladly assist when you have a plan, brother, but until then-"

"Get out of my way!" Klaus seethed.

More brawling.

She grabbed the first reasonable thing of Rebekah's she could find - an expensive blue silken slip, edged in fine lace. Bolting to the epicenter of all the noise, she threw open the doors and shut them quickly, pressing her shoulders to the solid frame.

"I can't leave you alone for two seconds," she griped. Threading fingers through her hair to get rid of most of the snags, she pursed her lips at Klaus until he let go of Elijah's lapels, putting his fists at his sides.

Elijah straightened himself with a few short tugs before he ran a hand over his hair to sweep back the unsettled strands. He nodded to her, then opened his hand at a bar in askance.

"Drink?" he enquired.

"I was promised a blood and bourbon," she said thickly. Pinning Klaus under her glare, she put her hands on her hips. "I thought you weren't going to do anything to Tyler while I was with Elena?"

His face hardened.

"I wasn't going to do much," he grumbled. "I was just collecting him for when you were ready."

Practicing a deep breathing technique that came in handy for her anxiety, she accepted the drink from Elijah with a polite word of thanks. The Original stood beside her with one of his own, similarly watching Klaus.

"You have-" Caroline said, her fingers already outstretched for Elijah's hair. "Uhm, glass, in your-"

"Thank you," he said smoothly, as Caroline took the shards away from his scalp. There was a smear of blood but no open wound - he healed crazy fast. "I'm sorry to have woken you, Caroline."

"I was kind of already awake, I think." Sipping her drink, she returned a much harder look to the Hybrid throwing himself so dramatically on the couch, everything about him sulking. "I expected _someone_ wouldn't have patience enough to just go to bed."

"As if you could blame me?" he asked reproachfully. "You were making love to another woman, and I had your ex's name written in the sound of his screaming on the back of my eyelids. I had time."

"The night before the wedding?" she challenged. "The entire reason I needed you?"

He shrugged.

His petulant pouting made her take a long drink from her glass.

"Oh, wow, wait-" She held up a finger at Klaus to look at Elijah. "What is this? Why is it so good?"

"AB neg," he explained. "Pairs well with bourbon for the smokey notes."

"It's like, really good," she said quickly, taking another sip. "Like, _really_ good. Why does it taste fresh? Did you bleed someone out recently?"

Klaus pulled the empty bag over and waved it at her as his evidence, grumpily tossing it at the low table beside her hip. He watched it spin to land perfectly in her reach, then propped his chin on his fist.

"We've been behaving as per your request," he said mulishly.

Caroline knocked back the rest of her drink and set it down with a snap.

"Did you or did you not tell me, with your words, that you were not jealous of Elena and I?" she demanded.

"It's not jealous to want to see all the things that she's doing to make you cry out the way she was," he griped. "Or to see what you were doing, that had the pretty doppelgänger sob your name. I'm pent up."

"Oh, you're pent up?" she scoffed. "That’s _hilarious_. You know I spent the last two days nearly completely turned on from random sex-vision, right? You can suffer some noise for a few hours."

"In my own house," he lamented. "After I just had you in my own bed. Is it too much to ask that you come to lay with me once you're done?"

"I agreed to stay with Elena while she needed me," she reminded him, voice hard. "And you still said that was fine. I shouldn't have to worry about you not stalking Tyler every time I shut my eyes."

"He will suffer, for having made you suffer," Klaus announced. There was no arguing with that tone. "For having you looked at me as though I would ever lay hands on you in hatred. I will see him beg for mercy whether it is now and under your instruction or in fifty years and behind your back."

"No," she said sharply. "It won't. Violence isn't inevitable. You have the power of compulsion, Klaus, just compel him to never do it again-"

"That will never be enough for me," he said through his teeth. His eyes flashed. "Through some idiocy, that boy has put what we have in jeopardy. I will not stand for it in the slightest."

Exhaling through her nose, and feeling Elijah's eyes weigh on her differently, she made her shoulders relax. The Hybrid was hurt on her behalf, and she understood that. But she couldn't just throw Tyler to the literal wolves - she was a good vampire, after all.

"’ _Nothing but you and I will get in the way of you and I_ ’," she parroted, doing a terrible rendition of his accent. Pursing her lips didn't hide her smile the way she thought it might, and she saw a flicker of amusement behind his eyes. "Are you going to get over here and kiss me goodnight, or what?"

"Perhaps I'm enjoying the look of you so thoroughly debauched, love.” He got off the couch and strolled over, taking a breath near her mouth with her head trapped in his hands. He took another greedy wiff by her chin and purred from deep in his chest. "Having fun?"

"Fun isn't the word I'd use," she muttered. She was very aware Elijah was like, right there, and watching. Entirely aware of _what_ Klaus was smelling leftover on her chin and mouth. "It's a bit more than that."

"Curative," Elijah suggested.

"Yeah, that." Caroline's lids fluttered when Klaus' warm tongue licked a stripe over both her lips, an animal action that made her loose for him. When he sucked her lip into his mouth and rumbled around it, her hands flew to his shoulders for purchase - her knees were feeling weak.

"She tastes delicious on you," he murmured, and dragged his nose over her cheek, wuffing quietly to her throat. "Every inch of her pleasure on your skin is a marvel."

Her heart was banging. She thought about maybe asking him to stop, but Elijah was watching Klaus' descent without blinking, like he was equally trying to scent Elena on her skin without being physically close enough to.

Swallowing, she reached out her wrist in his direction.

He snapped his dark eyes up at her face, seeking permission. When she nodded, he barely turned his head to graze the soft skin of her wrist with his nose, inhaling deep into his lungs. A curl of vein throbbed under his eye, and he dropped his lids before she could see if he lost any of his legendary control.

"Did you make her spray for you, my love?" Klaus cooed, speaking into her ear.

"I didn't," she muttered. "I think I wore her out."

"You might've, judging by all the noise I heard from her," Klaus mused. He sucked her throat, hands warm around her hips. "Did she satisfy you in return?"

"Niklaus." Elijah lifted his head, giving him a narrow eyed look. "Does your depravity know no bounds?"

"You, who are thickening by the second for smelling a woman's cream, are going to chastise me for depravity?"

Caroline flicked her eyes down to Elijah's belt buckle. She couldn't stop herself.

"Elena is not here to speak to what she's comfortable with being known," he said, clipped. That didn't stop him from returning to lightly trailing his nose around Caroline's palm, where Elena's mess had soaked into her skin mere hours ago. They hadn't gotten around to showering. The human had tapped out and gone almost immediately to sleep.

"Taste it," Caroline said, low and throaty.

Klaus' hands dug into her, bringing her front to his jean clad thigh. He mouthed over her collarbone, laving the spots where Elena lingered.

"I couldn't," Elijah denied, though he didn't move. Another vein pulsed under his eye, this one a little thicker, lasting a little longer on his expression. "It wouldn't be right."

"It's not wrong," she insisted.

"Careful with this one, brother," Klaus advised cheekily, curving one hand around her ass to get a solid squeeze. "She's a dog with a bone when she gets an idea in her head."

That was true.

Caroline touched Elijah's cheek, feeling the slightest beginnings of his stubble begin to prickle under the curious pads of her fingers. If he had've left, she would've stopped. But his eyes shut and he turned to bury his face against her palm, breathing through his nose.

Feeling emboldened by Klaus' slow rub up her silk-clad back, she wet her lips.

"Taste it," she said again, and delicately stroked her thumb over the proud line of his lips.

Elijah's breath was hot, and his mouth even hotter, when it closed around her thumb. He swiped his tongue over the pad of it, eyes opening, still clear and dark as ever. He let it go with a pop to turn meaningfully for her fingers, sucking on her two main digits without protest. Two new veins crept under his eyes, and Caroline was a little bit determined to get them all out to play.

One of Klaus' hands snuck beneath her skirt to cup around her ass.

"In front of Elijah?" she muttered, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he murmured. He angled himself nearer to her. "But I feel like I rather need to reassert my scent on you, as lovely as little Elena is. And if you wanted to try with an audience, no better secret is kept than by Elijah."

Her mouth was so dry. She found herself drifting to look at Elijah, hard in his slacks and watching Klaus' hand under the short hem of her skirt. She thrust against it to see his reaction and saw another vein swell before quickly dissipating.

Pulling her fingers from his mouth, she replaced them with the other two, which had been just as saturated, at one point.

"We shouldn't..." she said quietly. "Wouldn't it be... incest-y?"

Elijah dragged his eyes up her front like something was physically weighing him down. He sucked tenderly on her digits and wrapped a kind hand around her wrist to pluck it from his mouth, kissing the tips of her spit-slick fingers while he thought.

"That rather depends," he admitted. "If it puts you at ease, I've participated with Klaus' paramours before, as well as watched."

Caroline licked her lips. Klaus pressed a lingering, burning kiss against her throat.

"She likes the idea of being watched," he murmured.

"But..." she said, slightly breathy. Her head tipped to the side to allow Klaus to latch onto it, flat teeth making her rock up onto her toes. "You don't - like me?"

"Of course I like you," Elijah scolded gently. "You are a rare creature, for having caught Klaus' eye; you're beautiful, and aroused, and the look of a woman enjoying herself will never bode ill to me. My hesitation is not because I don't like you, Caroline. I simply think I'm not the one who will have regrets when all is said and done."

Caroline understood on one level, that he was trying to get her higher brain functions to kick in. It was a call to rational thought, and she appreciated it.

Elijah was like, a solid, standup dude.

Maybe she'd misjudged him, the way people persistently misjudged Klaus?

But she couldn't get past the part of his sentence about 'participating'.

"What do you mean, participating?" she said thickly. Her damp fingers touched his cheek, and Klaus's mouth sealed over her throat and sucked hard, making her knees bend.

Elijah braced her back, stepping closer to stroke her cheek with his other hand. A tender kiss was pressed to the inside of her wrist, and the tiniest bit of black swum in his eyes.

"Participating looks like whatever you want it to be," he assured her softly. He peppered little kisses up and down her inner palm. "Whatever suits you."

"Dangerous," she whispered. Her eyes flicked to his mouth. "It's not that - I don't want..."

"There is no shame here," he told her kindly. "And if it is a one-off? So be it. I am not a jealous creature. I do not covet what is not mine. However, should you want to indulge, I'd like to hear what that would look like, to you."

"Tell him what you want," Klaus murmured. He nibbled her lobe, then spoke in a low rasp. "Tell us what you want."

"I-" She wasn't sure. How was this NOT a crazy-sex dream? Obviously it had to be. Right? She was - doing that thing, with the sexy day dreams. Or maybe she was still asleep...?

Trailing her damp fingers over Elijah's buttons, she wet her lips, and hummed with pleasure when Klaus moved his thigh to the crux of her legs. She dared to flick open the button at the top of his shirt, and put her fingers meaningfully on the knot of his tie.

"Did you want to taste where she was wet the longest, Elijah?" she dared.

His eyes darkened a fraction.

"Do you want my mouth on yours, Caroline?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I want you to taste her come on my tongue, and wish it were you. You might not want what other people have, but I _do_. And I know she wants you."

His eyes flashed. A hungry little smirk pulled on his lips.

He was... a little bit fucking sexy.

"That's it," Klaus encouraged roughly. "Go for it, love."

Elijah gave her the very smallest of kisses on her cheek, breathing in the combined scent of her skin and Elena's arousal. He rubbed her back mindlessly, his hand drifting to cup the side of her throat, before he indulged in kissing her.

That perfect veil of control lasted until she challenged his lips with her tongue - he parted his mouth with a low groan and Caroline squeaked as he pulled at her tongue, claiming every inch of her mouth with his.

"Outstanding," he murmured, and kissed her again, no less hungry than the first time.

Caroline mewled, feeling heat fill her face.

Elijah offered himself as a wall for her to lean on, hands comfortingly on her back, soothing as he let her hide from being seen.

" _Klaus_." It came broken from her lips, and muffled against Elijah's mouth.

"Yes, love?" He bent and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, pulling the strap on her shoulder down to drag his hot mouth around the skin there.

She squeezed Elijah's helpful arm in one hand, and reached back to clamp around Klaus' wrist with the other. She groaned loud and unashamed into Elijah's next kiss, and leaned back into Klaus' embrace, feeling the stiff length of him nursed at her backside. There were hands everywhere, and she was mindless under the elder brother's kiss.

"Pretty sure gentlemen aren't supposed to kiss like that," she commented on a breath, trying to keep her knees steady. She tilted her head to rest it on Klaus' shoulder, breasts heaving as her breath was caught.

Elijah smiled, slow and sure, stroking her cheek with a beringed finger.

"Do let me know when you see a gentleman.” The veins had all gone from his eyes and she lamented it. He was perfectly, regally, totally in control of himself. The prick. "I haven't been accused of such a thing in an age."

Klaus' hands framed her stomach and rubbed over the silk, pulling it up. The scent of her arousal painted the air between them, and Caroline felt altogether too hot, but not sufficiently smothered enough. She shakily parted her thighs enough for Klaus to cup her mound, her blood pounding as Elijah's eyes dropped to observe it.

"Sensitive," she managed to whisper in warning.

"Good," Klaus mused, and slipped his fingers up inside her.

They were all existing for her pleasure, and she was absolutely out-of-her mind on it, ready to be debauched and have someone else bare witness. Oh, it was a delicious kind of hellscape; surely her mother would roll in her grave to see her. But Caroline was nothing if not persistent, and ultimately there wasn't anything negative in that room. No pressure, no obligations. Besides, it wasn’t real, so what harm would it do?

She’d wake up any second.

Aaaaannnyyy second…

Elijah had just moved to rub the grown length in his trousers when his head cocked to the side, and he looked to the doors, his eyes narrowed.

"What?" she said, a little bewildered, a little broken-hearted. What had usurped his singular attention? 

But then she heard it.

Elena's hurried footsteps, and her racing heart.

Klaus appeared to be the last to know, because he groaned a scant second later and unhooked his hand from inside her. He sucked on his own fingers grumpily and buried his face against the back of her hair for a long second, the exhale he released growly and resigned.

"If I could die of blue balls," he said to no one in particular, dragging Caroline across the room to sit demurely on the couch beside him. He pulled her in tight under his wing, sneaking a quick kiss against her temple. "Fuck. I could eat you up."

"Don't be a cliché," she muttered, eyes fixed on Elijah tucking his hard on up into his waist band. "This is the worst drift I've ever had."

"Not a drift," Klaus mentioned, seconds before there was a knock on the study door, followed by a sickly looking Elena.

"Uhm, you don't have to pretend it's not getting super hot and heavy in here," she said, which made all eyes on her wide with shock. In her hand was Caroline's phone, and she nibbled her lip. "But maybe - maybe shut a curtain, next time?"

Caroline accepted the phone and looked down on it in shock. She hadn't read every message her abusive family had sent because a) she had been distracted and b) she couldn't keep up. But at the same time yesterday that she had found Elena and texted Elijah, there had been a text from an unknown number that had gotten lost in the influx. At the time, she assumed some relation had been taking yet another shot, but as it turned out...

It was a selfie of Tyler, giving a bright smile with dead shark eyes staring directly into the camera. He was standing in front of the dress shop, where Caroline and Klaus were inside. She was wearing a black gown, and Klaus had framed her hips with his hands, his chin hooked over her shoulder. They were both staring at their reflection with the same hungry little smirk as the other, and the look of it would've been quite intimate if not for her ex being in the frame.

_Knew you had it in you - T_

Two minutes ago, she had been sent a video from the same number. The frame beneath the play button was of Klaus and Elijah surrounding her, the intent between them a little bit obvious. She didn't need to play it to see Elijah sucking on her fingers, or Klaus grabbing at her ass.

Her horrified eyes found the window it had been filmed from, but no one was currently there.

"Klaus," she said, shaking his arm. "Klaus, _Klaus_ -!"

He inhaled deeply, his mouth in a firm line. He clamped his hand on her knee and gave a solemn nod, the muscle in his jaw pulsing.

What he said was probably more than one language smashed into one word, and something that earned a tight: "Niklaus!" from his brother. He snatched the phone, bringing it near to his face, fingers enlarging the image on the small bit of background available.

He inspected every inch of the photo, passing it to Elijah without a word.

"How did we not hear him?" Caroline said shrilly. She couldn't stay sat - didn't want to. Surging up, Klaus' hand snagged her wrist and pulled her back down, tucking her under his arm again. "Klaus, get off, I can't - I need to shut the curtains, at least!"

"He's not here, if he's being clever," Klaus grunted. He was glowering across the floor at nothing.

"If he's made himself known, he will be gone from here," Elijah concurred, still looking at the still of the video. He lifted his eyes to Elena. "Did you watch it?"

Sheepish, she nodded, tightening the belt on Rebekah's robe. She couldn't quite look at him when she took a seat separately to Klaus and Caroline, fiddling with the end of the tie.

"So what do we do now?" she said huskily.

"Hunt him down," Klaus said.

" _No_ ," erupted from Caroline. She unearthed from his half embrace and skipped across the room to yank the curtains shut, her hands shaking. She kept her back to them all, and peered from between the barest slither of parted fabric.

"He was on my turf, knowing full and bloody well I was here," Klaus said through his teeth. "I have flayed for less."

"No," she repeated, a little harder.

"Caroline," Elena said softly.

"It's not a threat," she insisted. "He's just - he said I was - he said that Klaus made me a -... That I lost my mind when I- when we-... no. It's not a threat. It's making his point."

How many times had he accused her of cheating? How many times had he accused her of loving Klaus more than him? How many times had he said out loud 'he makes you a whore'?

And hadn't she gone and proved his point.

She had been desiccating and her behavior was totally fine, right up until Klaus. Then suddenly all her inhibitions were out the window and she was a bitch in heat for him? It didn't make sense... unless...

How did she know he wasn't compelling her?

She couldn't have been desiccating because she had been regularly consuming blood. She had been drinking the bagged stuff to keep it under wraps. There hadn't been any weird sexy zone outs there. She had been entirely in her own mind. Until Klaus.

Who had the ability to compel her.

She hadn't been eating vervain, and she wasn't wearing any charms. Why should she? She had trusted him. She had been so sure that he was good to her. Until now.

"Does Tyler have any actual way to kill an Original?" Elijah prompted.

Caroline didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore. She flinched when Klaus rocketed out of his seat and spun to put her back on the wall, terrified, for a moment, that he was going to try and shake an answer out of her.

"I don't know!" she said quickly. "I don't know anything, he didn't have anything when I saw him last - I don't know if he has anything now, I swear!"

Klaus gritted his teeth and strode to the other side of the room to put his hands around the bar and lean onto it. He cast her a meaningful look.

"And I'm still not going to hurt you," he told her tightly.

Her hands were sweating. Her breathing was strained. Desperate fingers dug into the plaster, and she locked every joint to remain standing. Her eyes wouldn't blink, fixed on his furious glare. Just in case he came at her, she could at least see it coming.

"Caroline," Elijah soothed, showing her his hands. "That anger is not for you. You're not going to be hurt."

Like, intellectually, she knew that. But also, her muscle memory made everything tense and prepared for when she was set upon. She had known false security too many times, and those hits had hurt the most. The ones that she hadn't been expecting.

"Tyler should be put in the dungeon," Elena said quietly.

All eyes went to her.

"Now see," Klaus murmured. "That, I wasn't expecting."

"To keep Caroline feeling safe," she amended. "Just for a few days. Just until we can figure out if he's actually dangerous, or get her out of Mystic Falls for a while. I'll call Bonnie and-"

"No," Caroline's hoarse voice hurt her throat. "We are not - caging him, like he's an animal. I should - just talk, to him."

"You didn't want to talk to him yesterday, and you don't need to talk to him now," Elena told her. "I'm not on Team Kill Tyler. I'm on Team Caroline. Putting you first is the priority. The less contact between you, the better."

"I can't leave him to Klaus," she said petulantly.

"Then leave him to me," Elijah suggested. "He's one Hybrid, and surely he cannot do me more harm than a bite. I will take him in to the dungeon and see that he is kept restrained and quite removed from you. At least then, you'll be able to rest easy, knowing where he is."

"And I'll call Bonnie to help lock him down," Elena agreed.

"No," Caroline said, but no one was listening to her. Louder, she went on: "I can just talk to him, explain that - there's something wrong with me, that I'm not - that I wasn't - losing it, when I was with Klaus, that there's something wrong with my brain right now."

"Yes, because why else would you be near me, if not for something fundamentally wrong with you?" Klaus said. The bite in his words spoke more to his own insecurities than his anger with her.

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"Yes you did. It doesn't matter an inch to me," he sniffled. "I'm well aware I'm the big bad wolf in all the stories told."

"You're not in mine," she promised him. Her hands unwound from the wall. "Klaus, he was convinced for months that I was in love with you and that was the main reason he was so - the way he was. Now he's seen us together and it's confirmed everything, and he- he thinks that..." She stopped talking.

This was not how she was going to say _I love you_ to him for the first time.

The pause in the room filled the air, and Caroline took a shuddering breath in.

"He hurt you," came low, and devastated, from Klaus' throat. "For the thinking that you wouldn't bend your knee for me to be slain, because you had feelings for me?"

"Yeah," she said softly.

"For months, you wouldn't agree to it?" he confirmed.

"Yes," she agreed, a little harder.

"Let him hurt you and insult you, and put fear in your heart, to protect me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

It was the real question, and it deserved a real answer. She cut eyes at Elena, who was doe-eyed and breathing purposefully slowly; the tiny human gave an encouraging nod.

_Tell him._

"Uhm-" she said, and then looked at her buzzing phone. Instead of having Elena read it again, she zoomed to the device and swiping it open before she read the name - she had expected Tyler, given the climate of the room and what had just happened.

Instead, she had a message from Matt.

_Caroline, there's been a break-in at your house. We have the culprits in custody. They had a key. Can you get down here?_

Blinking, she lifted her eyes to Elena, and handed the phone down to her without a word.


End file.
